__Luke_Gospel__New_Testament_Readings_.pdf

Luke’s Gospel

Luke’s Gospel provides a comprehensive and schematic reading ofits subject text. Dr Knight introduces the Gospel and discusses howit came to birth. He introduces a narrative approach to the Gospeland compares this with other methods of research. He offers achapter-by-chapter exposition of Luke and considers alternativeperspectives such as feminism and deconstruction. He thenexamines the principal motifs of the Gospel, particularly the themeof the temple which has been overlooked in previous scholarship,arguing that Luke’s Jesus pronounces the present temple forsakenby God to introduce himself as the cornerstone of theeschatological temple. Finally, Knight examines earlier readings ofLuke’s Gospel from Conzelmann to the present day.

Jonathan Knight presents an accessible and jargon-freeintroduction to the Gospel which makes a valuable addition to theNew Testament Readings series.

Jonathan Knight is a priest in the Diocese of Ely who waseducated at Cambridge University and subsequently taught atSheffield University. He is the author of The Ascension of Isaiah(Sheffield 1995) and 2 Peter and Jude (Sheffield 1995). Hecurrently works as Research Assistant to Stephen Sykes, the Bishopof Ely, and is Secretary of the Doctrine Commission of the Churchof England.

New Testament Readings

Edited by John CourtUniversity of Kent at Canterbury

JOHN’S GOSPELMark W.G.Stibbe

EPHESIANSMartin Kitchen

2 THESSALONIANSMaarten J.J.Menken

MARK’S GOSPELJohn Painter

READING THE NEW TESTAMENTJohn Court

REVELATIONAlan Garrow

THE GOSPEL OF THOMASRichard ValantasisForthcoming books in this series:

MATTHEWS GOSPELDavid J.Graham

ACTSLoveday Alexander

GALATIANSPhilip Esler

JAMESRichard Bauckman

Luke’s Gospel

Jonathan Knight

London and New York

First published 1998by Routledge

11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE

This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2005.

“To purchase your own copy of this or any of Taylor & Francis orRoutledge’s collection of thousands of eBooks please go to

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Simultaneously published in the USA and Canadaby Routledge

29 West 35th Street, New York, NY 10001

© 1998 Jonathan Knight

The right of Jonathan Knight to be identified as the Author of thisWork has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright,

Designs and Patents Act 1988

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted orreproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, orother means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying

and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system,without permission in writing from the publishers.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication DataA catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication DataKnight, Jonathan (Jonathan Morshead), 1959–

Luke’s gospel/Jonathan Knightp. cm.—(New Testament readings)

Includes bibliographical references and index.1. Bible. N.T. Luke-Criticism, interpretation, etc. I. Title.

II. Series.BS2595.2. K58 1998

226.4' 06–DC21 97–30043CIP

ISBN 0-203-98097-2 Master e-book ISBN

ISBN 0-415-17321-3 (hbk)ISBN 0-415-17322-1 (pbk)

Contents

Series editor’s preface vi

Preface vii

List of abbreviations viii

1 An introduction to the text 1

2 Luke as a narrative 21

3 A reading of Luke 71

4 Alternative readings of Luke 149

5 The themes of Luke’s Gospel 163

6 A reading of readings 186

Notes 203

Bibliography 210

Biblical index 215

Index of ancient authors 228

General index 229

Series editor’s preface

This volume has every right to stand on its own, as a significantcontribution to the study of Luke. But equally it is a volume in aseries entitled New Testament Readings. Each volume in this seriesdeals with an individual book among the early Christian writingswithin, or close to the borders of, the New Testament. The series isnot another set of traditional commentaries, but designed as agroup of individual interpretations or ‘readings’ of the texts,offering fresh and stimulating methods of approach. While thecontributors may be provocative in their choice of a certainperspective, they also seek to do justice to a range of modernmethods and provide a context for the study of each particulartext.

The collective object of the series is to share with the widestreadership the extensive range of recent approaches to Scripture.There is no doubt that literary methods have presented whatamounts to a ‘new look’ to the Bible in recent years. But we shouldnot neglect to ask some historical questions or apply suitablemethods of criticism from the social sciences. The origins of thisseries are in a practical research programme at the University ofKent, with an inclusive concern about ways of using the Bible. It isto be hoped that our series will offer fresh insights to all who, forany reason, study or use these books of the early Christians.

John M.CourtSeries editor

Preface

My interest in Luke was kindled when I read for the Diploma inTheology at Cambridge University in 1983. I became aware of theneed for literary approaches to the Gospels when I was working atthe Department of Biblical Studies at Sheffield University between1991 and 1994. This book draws on a fusion of methodologies topresent what I hope is a balanced reading of Luke.

As I was finishing this book news came from Germany of thesad death of Ernst Bammel, so soon after the death of his wife.Bammel was an inspiring teacher of the New Testament who neverstinted with his generosity towards his friends and pupils. Thisbook is dedicated to his memory with gratitude and respect.

The biblical citations in this book are taken from the RevisedEnglish Bible (REB) except where stated.

Abbreviations

AB Anchor BibleCBQ Catholic Bible QuarterlyET English translationGAP Guides to the Apocrypha and PseudepigraphaHTS Harvard Theological StudiesJSNTSS Journal for the Study of the New Testament

Supplement SeriesJSOTSS Journal for the Study of the Old Testament

Supplement SeriesNRSV New Revised Standard VersionNTS New Testament StudiesNTT New Testament TheologyREB Revised English BibleRSV Revised Standard VersionSBLMS Society of Biblical Literature Monograph SeriesSBT Studies in Biblical TheologySHR Studies in History and ReligionSNTSMS Society for New Testament Studies Monograph

Series

Chapter 1An introduction to the text

This book sets out to provide a reading of Luke’s Gospel.1 Of thewriting of books on the Gospels there has been no end, especiallynot in the last ten years. It is therefore incumbent on a new authorto explain where his work differs from the rest and doubtless toacknowledge the many areas of overlap and the sources fromwhich his ideas have been culled. This book is motivated by thebelief that it is helpful to read Luke as a narrative—that is to say,as a text which tells a story—and that much can be learned fromthis approach, which has assumed increasing prominence in NewTestament scholarship over the past decade.2 The Gospels, afterall, do tell a story. Recent research has shown that they have muchin common with the so-called ‘Lives’ of Hellenistic figures (seebelow). There is a need for a reading of Luke which examines thenature of its narrative, including matters of structure and content,within the confines of a single volume.3 Thisaim shapes the way inwhich this book has been written. Chapter 1 is an introduction toLuke which explores the Gospel’s major features and argues for acommon authorship with the Acts of the Apostles (a theory whichhas implications for the wider interpretation of the Gospel).Chapter 2 offers an introduction to Luke as a narrative andsuggests some areas which ought to be considered in a reading ofthe Gospel. Chapter 3 presents a reading of Luke which worksthrough the Gospel on a chapter-by-chapter basis. Chapter 4considers some alternative readings of Luke—notably,deconstructive and feminist readings. Chapter 5 examines thethemes of the Gospel in the light of this earlier discussion. Finally,Chapter 6 offers a reading of some of Luke’s interpreters,beginning with Hans Conzelmann and ending with StephenMoore, and offers a metacommentary on readings of Luke which

tries to guide the unfamiliar reader through the growing maze ofsecondary material.

It is doubtless true to say that a ‘literary’ approach to the Biblearose from the recognition that much scholarship was dominatedby a theological agenda (which generally meant a Christiantheological agenda) that ignored developments in other fields ofliterary research and concentrated on themes in the text ratherthan on the text itself. Much of what has been done from thisperspective in New Testament studies so far has been of the natureof ‘catching up’ on approaches which have already profitably beenadopted in English, Classics and Philosophy. This observationraises an important question of method for the present study. Theapproach that will be adopted in Chapters 2 and 3 of this book isto read Luke as a text and to ask what holds it together and makesit function as a work of literature. This is a different approachfrom many previous studies which have asked mainly about Luke’splace in the development of Christian ideas. There is a coherentreason for this shift in emphasis. The Gospels certainly illustrate thedevelopment of early Christian ideas but they are not in themselvestheological treatises. First and foremost, they tell a story aboutJesus which (meta)comment(ate)s on his significance as it wasperceived in the late first century CE. They incorporate earliermaterial which each Evangelist arranges in a certain way. Readersinteract with this material to form the meaning which they takefrom each Gospel. It is through this process of reading that themeaning of the text is forged out for the reader.

This book works from the assumption that, since Luke is anarrative, the methods which have been used to interpret secularnarratives can and should be applied to Luke as well. This meansthat we must pay careful attention to issues of plot andcharacterization which stand at the heart of all narratives.Whatever sources lie behind Luke—and I shall argue that Markand Matthew were two of them—our interest lies with theinterpretation of Luke as it stands and not with an analysis of theelements from which it was composed. This approach does notmean that Luke is without its gaps and problems. Far from it.There are some very obvious gaps in the story, like what Jesus didin his childhood and what he thought about a variety of issues. Acontinual tension surrounds the character of Jesus in the Gospel.Throughout, the figure of the heavenly Lord dances with thehuman Jesus because the narrative hero who dies is also the Lord

2 AN INTRODUCTION TO THE TEXT

in heaven. Moreover, Luke’s Jesus seems to adopt a differentperspective from Luke’s narrator. The author himself sides inplaces with Jesus against the narrator.4 This is an invitation by theauthor to the reader to ponder the meaning of the text. The gapsand problems are in many ways the most interesting parts of thestory for they force the reader to grapple with its meaning and toconstruct an interpretation which explores and explains the signsthat the author has embedded in the narrative.

This approach means that a consideration of the author’stheological purpose has been (partially) upstaged in my book by aconsideration of what makes Luke’s story work. This book drawson a variety of methods in which narrative criticism is aided bycomposition criticism (especially in Chapters 1 and 5) and byredaction criticism too. The nature of Luke as a Gospel—as a workthat uses earlier tradition—makes this multi-faceted approachessential. Narrative criticism is a valuable new approach but, in theopinion of this writer, the older methods have not lost their value.This book will therefore study how Luke works as a narrative andalso ask about the themes of Luke’s story and about Luke’srelation to the other Gospels.

A word is in order about how I as the author would like you asthe reader to use what I have written. There are several differentways of reading this book. Some readers may want to read it fromcover to cover and digest its contents in the order I have devised.This is a perfectly satisfactory way of reading and I hope that Ihave placed enough signposts in the text to guide my readers alongtheir way. On the other hand, some readers may find themselvesimpatient with what has turned out to be quite a lengthyintroduction (Chapters 1 and 2). I regard it as equally satisfactoryif readers want to begin with Chapters 3 and 4, where somedifferent readings of Luke are explored, and then return (or choosenot to return…) to the introduction. Chapter 3 contains the realmeat of the book (readers may find my summary of Luke’s plot inChapter 2 a helpful preliminary to this chapter). I hope thatreaders will come to share the sense of enthusiasm which I havegained for Luke’s Jesus with his denunciation of the present temple(13.35) and self-introduction as the corner-stone of theeschatological temple (20.17).

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE TEXT 3

LUKE AS A GOSPEL

The first question we must consider is the question of Luke’sgenre. What kind of text are we dealing with? The answer is thatLuke is ‘a Gospel’. A Gospel is a written record of the life of Jesuswhich tells the story of his adult ministry (or at least what areconsidered the significant parts of it) and concludes with his deathand resurrection (uniquely in Luke with the ascension of Jesus).Matthew and Luke describe the birth of Jesus. All the Gospelsomit the substantial details of his childhood (apart from one sparseLucan anecdote). There are four Gospels in the New Testament;Luke is the third in sequence. These Gospels must bedistinguished, both in form and in content, from the other so-called ‘Gospels’ which lie outside the New Testament canon.5

These non-canonical Gospels were written later than the canonicalGospels and they lack the narrative structure which gives thecanonical Gospels their character. In the analysis of the genre, theobservation that the New Testament Gospels ‘tell a story’—thatthey have a fundamental narrative structure—is an important one.

Luke was not the first Gospel to be written. That distinctionprobably rests with (a form of) Mark. It seems virtually certain thatLuke knew Mark. It is probable that he also knew Matthew. Lukemust be evaluated in the context of the emerging Gospel traditionand in deference to the possibility that some of what he says maybe a deliberate recasting of the earlier Gospels, for whatever reasonthis was done (as for instance in the temptation story, chapter 4).Luke did not come to birth in isolation from a literary or from anoral tradition. The latter continued to circulate even in the secondcentury.6 The author picks up both traditions and gives them newshape and focus through his own distinctive touches.

The Gospel form was an innovation in first-century Christianitybut it is broadly related to other ancient literary types. Since Markwas the first Gospel to be written, it is by his standards that theother Gospels must be judged. It is clear that when Mark wrote,some forty years after the resurrection of Jesus, the need was felt towrite down the facts about Jesus to yield a more permanent recordthan was provided by the oral tradition. One can only admire thesimplicity with which the earliest Gospel is written. Mark’snarrative moves from the story of John the Baptist through Jesus’ministry in Galilee, his identification as the Messiah by thedisciples, to the journey to his death in Jerusalem, which is


followed in turn by the resurrection. This basic plot supplies thenarrative framework which the other Gospels adopt.

The body of Mark’s Gospel contains both sayings and deeds ofJesus. The presence of both to the exclusion of neither gives theGospel its character. Mark’s record of the sayings of Jesusis presented in a narrative framework, even if the links at timesseem rather perfunctory. His narrative moves towards the trial anddeath of Jesus which occupy a disproportionately large part of theGospel. Mark ends, almost mysteriously, with a description of theempty tomb and the women’s vision of the angels (16.8).7 Theother Gospels add to this the resurrection appearances of Jesuswhich allude to the Christian belief in his heavenly existence; Lukealso adds the ascension of Jesus to heaven.

The question has been raised of how far the Gospels conform tothe style of ancient biography. Comparison has often been madewith the ‘Lives’ of Hellenistic figures written by the classicalhistorians. Richard Burridge examines five such ‘Lives’ which werewritten before Mark.8 Burridge shows that all exhibit a similarrange of features within a flexible pattern. He mentions thefollowing points of comparison. Their flexibility operates withinperceptible boundaries. The ‘Lives’ are generally called by theirsubject’s name (cf. Mark 1.1). Their subject dominates thenarrative. The way in which the story is told varies from exampleto example. Some texts adopt a strict chronological sequence.Others mix this with topical analysis. Their scale is limited to thesubject’s life, deeds and character. The anecdote (‘a briefbiographical narrative that relates a striking or unusual feature ofthe hero’s character’) plays a significant role in them. Many suchworks conclude with the story of the hero’s death. Its cause issometimes described in much detail. Burridge discerns a variety ofreasons for the writing of these Lives, including the need topreserve the hero’s memory and to pass on his teaching. He showsthat they were read at public occasions such as festivals. They werenot originally intended for private consumption but for publicedification.

These points of comparison are instructive but we must notignore some significant differences between the Gospels and theLives. Graham Stanton observes that only a small number of thefeatures of Mark can be found either in any one ancient biographyor in any single type of biography.9 Moreover, many features ofMark would have puzzled the readers of ancient biography. These


include the Evangelist’s concentration on the death of Jesus, hisseemingly abrupt ending and his evident dislike of anecdotes. Inthe case of Luke, the Gospel presents something more than the lifeof Jesus tout court for it begins with the birth of John the Baptistand offers a theological commentary on what Jesus does, whichpaves the way for the writing of Acts, which narrates the sequel tohis ministry. The Gospels certainly contain elements of biography,and it may be that this broad Hellenistic influence allowed Luke toconceive of a work in two volumes.10 Yet the impression remainsthat Luke describes not so much the life of Jesus as such but whatActs 2.11 calls ‘the mighty works of God’ (RSV). This is analtogether broader view even though the story of the life of Jesusgives initial shape and coherence to the project.

Perhaps the most important difference between the Gospels andthe Lives is the status accorded the heroes in the respectiveliterature. Charles Talbert thinks that Luke has close parallels tothose Lives of philosophers which show where the ‘living voice’ ofthe tradition can be found once the founder has passed on.11 Thisis doubtless true to the extent that Luke provides a morepermanent record of Jesus’ deeds and sayings than the oraltradition but this comparison potentially obscures a mostimportant point. For the first readers of Luke, Jesus was theheavenly Lord whose presence was experienced whenever they metfor worship. He was not a dead prophet but the living Lord whoseinstallation as a heavenly being is symbolized by the ascension inthe Gospel and celebrated in the gathered community. The beliefthat Jesus is ‘seated at the right hand of Almighty God’ (22.69)colours Luke’s narrative to the extent that belief in his divinity isread back into the story of his life. There is thus a dialecticalrelationship between Luke’s story of the historical Jesus and thereaders’ perception of him as Lord. The experience of reading theGospel affects the experience of meeting Jesus in worship and viceversa. Talbert’s comparison must be qualified by the observationthat the living voice of the Jesus tradition was provided as much bythe promptings of his Spirit in the Christian community, whateverthat meant in practice, as by the reading of an authoritative text.We can now only speculate on the nature of the relationshipbetween the reading of the text and the perception of the heavenlyreality which these early readers enjoyed.

Nor should the comparison between the Gospels and the Lives beallowed to yield the conclusion that the Gospels are biographies as


we understand the term today. Biographies are two-a-penny at themoment. They fall into different forms ranging from serioushistorical scholarship to romantic or fictional reconstruction.Those who look to the Gospels to provide a full-blown life of Jesuswill be sadly disappointed. Much of the crucial information ismissing: what Jesus’ parents did, what were the formativeinfluences on his life, and so on. Moreover, some of theinformation that is included is unconvincing. It is incredible thatJesus should predict his fate in the terms suggested by 9.22(although I accept that 9.44 is a more convincing prediction). Thediscrepancies between the Gospels, notably in the trial narrative,pose a serious problem for historians which must not be ignored.This demonstrates the point that the Gospels must be read on theirterms and not on ours (even though we bring our agenda to the actof reading). When this point is acknowledged it is possible to makesnatches at the elusive Jesus of history, even to reconstruct anoutline of his career. But there is much that we cannot say from areading of the Gospels, and much that we might not want to say.This problem of information is created by the texts themselves.

One of the problems with some research in this area is that ittends to treat the Gospels as uniform documents and to ignore thedifferences between them.12 Luke is by no means necessarily thesame kind of text as Mark or Matthew. Luke has his own interestsand methodology, notably his avowed contact with Hellenisticliterature. These parallels with Graeco-Roman writing, and thenature of the text which they produce, distinguish Luke among theGospels. This point must be duly acknowledged in the discussion ofgenre.

Luke’s affinity with Hellenistic literature is historiographical aswell as biographical. Luke self-consciously sets his work in atradition of research which supplies the meaning of the factsrecorded (1.1–4). Comparisons are often drawn with the openingpart of Josephus’ Against Apion (a near contemporary of Luke’s)which is dedicated to Epaphroditus and which initially sets out theauthor’s purpose in writing.13 There is a similar Preface at thebeginning of Apion Book II which recalls the Preface that opensActs (Luke’s second volume). Several features of Greekhistoriography are mirrored in the Gospel.14 Luke attempts to fixhis history with reference to various authorities in 1.5 and(especially) 3.1. He follows Hellenistic conventions in translatingforeign words (e.g. 8.54; 23.33) and in assimilating Jewish


concepts to more familiar Greek ones (e.g. the reference to ‘tiles’ in5.19). Hellenistic too is Luke’s interest in moral topics, such as hisattitude to wealth in 16.14. His writing of Acts as a companion tothe Gospel supports the theory that Luke conceives his work ashistory of a kind. This again distinguishes him from Mark andMatthew and brings Luke closer to Hellenistic modes of writingthrough which the Gospel genre is apparently modified.

A variant of this hypothesis observes that the Lucan Preface iscloser to Hellenistic scientific writing than to historiography assuch.15 Loveday Alexander defines the ‘scientific’ tradition widelyto include medicine, philosophy, mathematics, rhetoric and evenmagic and mantic sciences. She argues that it well explains thebrevity of the Preface with its tortuous vocabulary. This is not tosay that Luke lacks affinities with historiography but that theGospel extends that sphere of influence to include a wider gamut ofliterature. The philosophical literature in particular is held byCharles Talbert to explain Luke’s form; notably, Talbert cites thethird-century CE writer Diogenes Laertius and his Lives of EminentPhilosophers.16

This diverse information can be summarized in the followingway. We are left with a picture of Luke as writing after the modelof Mark and with a knowledge of Matthew but at points adaptinghis sources and perhaps even trying to correct what he regarded asunhelpful tendencies in the earlier literature. Part of his methodwas to use Greek literary conventions. Our thoughts about genremust be broad enough to accommodate the similarities with widerHellenistic literature (and sufficiently critical to observe Luke’sdifferences from it). Perhaps it matters rather less to classify Lukeas a precise literary type—for such precision inevitably begsquestions —as to identify those features of Luke which give theGospel its character. It is perfectly possible to read Luke withoutreaching an exact judgment about its genre, even when this isacknowledged to be an important question.

LUKE AND ACTS AS TEXTS WRITTEN BYTHE SAME AUTHOR

One of the ways in which Luke differs from the other Gospels is inits affinities to another New Testament text, the Acts of theApostles. The two texts are strikingly similar in style, language andideas. The overwhelming consensus of scholarship is that Luke and


Acts were written by the same author and form a two-volumedwork. This view deserves brief examination since it bears on theinterpretation of the Gospel and on Luke’s overall purpose.

The two texts certainly display a family resemblance. This isobvious from their openings. Both are dedicated to a Theophilus(Luke 1.1; Acts 1.1). The introduction to Acts clearly presupposesan earlier work (‘In the first part of my work, Theophilus, I gavean account of all that Jesus did and taught from the beginning’,Acts 1.1). Given the reference to Theophilus in Luke, it stretchescredulity to suggest that this can be another Gospel or a lost textwhen Luke fits the bill so well. Moreover, the narrative descriptionof the ascension in the two works (despite the differences betweenthem), which is absent from the other New Testament documents,suggests a common authorship (see Luke 24.50–1; Acts 1.9–11).This hypothesis is reinforced by the observation that both worksdescribe a geographical progress. Luke ends in Jerusalem and Actsin Rome. This mode of construction confirms that the texts arerelated and that Paul’s appearance in Rome matches that of Jesusin Jerusalem in what seems to be a deliberate parallel.

It would, however, be wrong to say that Luke and Acts are twohalves of a composite work, still less that they were once a singletext that is now disjointed. They are in fact quite independent ofeach other. Each has features which are not shared by the other.Acts is the sequel to the Gospel (and we have no idea how muchlater than Luke it was written). The view taken in this book is thatLuke and Acts were written by the same author, whom we willcall Luke, and that this observation affects the interpretation ofboth texts. In practice, however, we shall be concerned here withLuke and shall examine Acts only when this is relevant to theargument in hand.

THE AUTHOR AND THE DATE OFCOMPOSITION

Next, we must consider Luke’s identity and the probable date thathis Gospel was written.

Luke as an author gives few clues about his identity. Papias (c.125 CE) does not mention him but the Muratorian Canon (latesecond century CE) says that: ‘after the ascension of Christ, Luke,whom Paul had taken with him as an expert in the way, wroteunder his own name and according to his own understanding. He


had not, of course, seen the Lord in the flesh, and therefore hebegins to tell the story from the birth of John on, insofar as it wasaccessible to him’. Eusebius (Hist. Eccl. 3.4.6) adds that Luke wasfrom Antioch but the reliability of this report is uncertain. Theonly Luke mentioned in the New Testament is ‘Luke, the belovedphysician’ of Colossians 4.14, Philemon 24 and 2 Timothy 4.11whom the sources indicate was a Gentile. There is a broad case forsupposing that this Luke was the author of the Gospel andActs, especially since his connection with Paul would have lent himprestige in the Christian communities; but the case falls short offormal proof. Luke-Acts has been studied assiduously to discernwhether it displays authentic medical terminology,17 but again theevidence for this is inconclusive. All we can say is that Luke wasprobably a Gentile; that he possibly had a connection with Paul(and may have accompanied the apostle on some of his journeys—although the ‘we’-passages in Acts are confined to maritimetravel); and that he had a literary expertise which makes hisGospel for the most part a pleasure to read.

Recent scholarship has drawn attention to the importance of the‘implied author’ as a feature of a text. The ‘implied author’ is theimpression of the author which the reader reconstructs from thestory. This of course depends on the view of his or her identitywhich the actual author chooses to disclose there. I shall say moreabout the role of the ‘implied author’ in Chapter 2 but I note herethat this is a fruitful path to Luke given the little that we knowabout him from external evidence. We should not, however,confuse the implied author with the actual author or assume thatthe implied author necessarily remains consistent from text to text(i.e. from Luke to Acts), or even from one part of a text toanother.

We do not know when the Gospel was written but we can dateit within broad parameters. Some scholars, observing that Actsends with the house-arrest of Paul, think that Luke and Acts werewritten in the 60s of the first century. This date is almostunbelievably early. Luke is dependent on Mark and probably alsoon Matthew. Mark may not have been written until after 70 CE(its earliest accepted date is 64 CE). Luke was certainly not writtenbefore the Fall of Jerusalem (see 21.20). The generally-agreed dateis in the 80s or 90s, perhaps towards the end of this span if thetheory that Luke knew Matthew is adopted. This date coheres with


the view, recorded by the Muratorian Canon, that Luke was acompanion of Paul but not an eyewitness of Jesus.

We have no idea where Luke was written and where the firstreaders lived. Many suggestions have been made; Rome isprominent among them. About the only thing that we can say withconfidence on this issue is that Luke was written outside Palestine.Again, however, we can gain a broader picture by asking aboutLuke’s ‘implied readers’. These are those for whom the narrativewith its particular set of emphases was apparently designed. Thisreconstruction of the evidence will be attempted in Chapter 2.

THE ‘PROTO-LUKE’ HYPOTHESIS

An issue that has often been discussed is whether the form inwhich we know Luke is the form in which the Gospel wasoriginally written. Some scholars think that the Infancy Narrative(chapters 1–2) was added later and that a ‘proto-Luke’ (an earlierversion of Luke) originally began with the preaching of John theBaptist in 3.1. This suggestion is perhaps not as unlikely as itseems. Luke itself contains evidence that different versions of theGospel circulated at an early period. Chapter 22 exists in twodifferent forms in the manuscript tradition. Some ‘Western’manuscripts omit the full text of the eucharistic words of Jesus (22.19–20), perhaps because a scribe was reluctant to disclose whatwas regarded as sacred tradition to a reader outside the Christiancommunity.18 There is a similar omission in 22.43–4 concerningthe behaviour of Jesus on the Mount of Olives. We have no proofthat a more primitive form of the Gospel stands behind ourpresent text but the way in which 3.1 is introduced, which seemsout of place given the information presented in chapters 1–2,makes this a reasonable possibility. We do know that the otherGospels passed through different recensions: Mark acquired alonger ending (l6.8b–20) and John another chapter (chapter 21). Itwould perhaps be perilous to assume that we have any of theGospels in the form in which they were originally written. Ourinterest in this book is primarily with the final form of Luke; butclearly the question of earlier editions is an intriguing one whichaffects the interpretation of the text.


THE SOURCES OF THE GOSPEL

The question of Luke’s sources may be discussed quite briefly. Itinvolves consideration of what has come to be called ‘The SynopticProblem’.

The problem of the relationship between the Synoptic Gospels isa vexed issue in New Testament scholarship. The problem, simplystated, concerns the question of which Gospel was written first andwhat sources—including the other Gospels—were available to thefirst three Evangelists. It should be said straight away that thisproblem is virtually insoluble. No resolution of it has yet beenproposed which is able to escape some form of criticism. Study ofthe problem has, however, produced some well-defined positionswhich may be explained here.

The majority of scholars who have worked on the SynopticProblem accept the possibility that Mark was the first Gospel to bewritten. The exception is the group of scholars who support the‘Griesbach hypothesis’ (see below). The majority hypothesis needscareful statement for we cannot necessarily assume that ourcanonical Mark is its original form. Mark was certainly expandedby the addition of material at the end of chapter 16 and it mayhave existed in a now-lost but abbreviated version which standsbehind the present text (the so-called Ur-Markus, or proto-Mark,theory). To argue for Marcan priority is thus not to argue thatMark reached its present form before the other Gospels werewritten.

The grounds for accepting Marcan priority have been stated inan article by Geoffrey Styler.19 Styler observes a number ofpassages where individual points of style and detail suggest thatMatthew and Luke were written with a knowledge of Mark. So faras Matthew is concerned, Styler notes his description of the deathof John the Baptist (Matthew 14.3–12=Mark 6.17–29). There arefeatures in Matthew’s story which he thinks betray knowledge ofMark’s. The words ‘and the king was sorry’ are integral to Markbut alien to Matthew, who has already said that Herod wanted tokill John. Matthew also forgets that the story is told as a‘flashback’ and builds a smooth transition to the next pericope atits conclusion (14.12–13). Another example of Marcan priority isPilate’s offer to release a prisoner in Matthew 27.15–18 (= Mark15.6–15). Mark’s sequence is clear and intelligible but Matthewblurs it badly. He removes Mark’s logic by first making Pilate offer


a choice between Jesus and Barabbas (27.17) but then stating that‘he knew it was from envy that they had delivered him up’ (27.18).The confusion in Matthew suggests that he knew Mark butinexpertly retained his flow of thought. The six examples whichStyler produces have a certain cumulative force. They explain somefeatures of Matthew which are otherwise difficult to account for.

It might be objected, as I shall show in a moment, that there areplaces in the Synoptic Gospels where the similarity between allthree Gospels is best explained on the hypothesis that Matthewand not Mark is the ‘middle term’. I do not think that thisinvalidates the case for Marcan priority once we recognize thatMark itself possibly passed through more than one version. It isprobably true to say that in places Matthew does represent themost original form of text. It is however in general easier tosupport Marcan priority over Matthew than the other way round(and very difficult to support Lucan priority over either). Marcanpriority over Matthew is thus a hard-and-fast rule but not anabsolute rule. It claims more supporters than detractors today.(There are no absolute rules in the study of the Synoptic Problem.)

Styler also argues for Marcan priority over Luke. Thishypothesis is easier to sustain because Luke follows Mark’s ordermore closely than does Matthew. Styler identifies several passageswhere it is easy to believe that Luke’s version is ‘secondary’ andhard to believe otherwise.20 The best example is the sermon in theNazareth synagogue, Luke 4.16–30. Here Luke retains themes thatare prominent in Mark 6.1–6 but he works many of them inartificially and presents what appears to be a ‘secondary’ versionof the story. In the story of Jairus’ Daughter (Luke 8.40–56, cf.Mark 5.21–4, 35–43) Luke blunders in allowing the mother toenter the house—for she has been there all the time—and appearsto stumble in suggesting that the inner group who witness themiracle scoff at Jesus. This statement, however, is comprehensiblewhen Mark’s version is read, for there Jesus allows only threedisciples to accompany him and the people scoff when Jesus saysthat the child is merely asleep. Luke compresses Mark’s account. Inso doing he is guilty of a carelessness which betrays his source.Luke is clearly secondary at this point to a Gospel which has afuller narrative.

Belief in Marcan priority has often been combined with belief inanother source which is cryptically called Q, after the GermanQuelle (‘source’). Q has never been found, evidently because it was


never committed to writing, but several scholars offer confident (insome cases, rather too confident) reconstructions of it.21 Thisfusion of sources yields what has come to be called the ‘two-source’ hypothesis, according to which Matthew and Luke usedMark and Q independently of each other (and their own privatematerial too). Its advantage, it might unfairly be said, is that aputative source can never be examined and so it can be held tocontain anything a Gospel critic would like it to. That Luke usedMark and Q and worked independently of Matthew has been thedominant theory in the past century. Only quite recently has ascholarly consensus begun to emerge that this is not correct.

There are greater objections to the ‘two-source’ theory than itsprotagonists are prepared to concede. These have been cogentlystated by Sanders and Davies.22 The theory’s fatal flaw is thestrong evidence that Matthew and Luke were not writtenindependently of each other but that one of them used the other.The ‘triple tradition’ —incidents which occur in all three Synoptists—throws up about a thousand agreements between Matthew andLuke against Mark. These are far too many to be coincidental.They suggest that Matthew and Luke did not use Markindependently of each other. This calls into question the existenceof Q (and shows that belief in the priority of Mark is hypotheticaland neither finally proven nor even finally provable). We must alsoconsider those places where Mark and Q overlap (e.g. in thetemptation story). This overlap, noted by B.H.Streeter in 1911,raises the possibility that Mark himself knew Q.23 That wouldmean the defeat of the ‘two-source’ hypothesis because Mark couldnot then be held to be uncontaminated by Q.

If Q is regarded as an invalid hypothesis, this must mean thateither Matthew or Luke used the other. Sanders and Daviesobserve that, in places in the triple tradition, Matthew and notMark (but never Luke) is the most plausible middle term.24 Thisindicates that, of all three Synoptic Gospels, Luke is the most likelyto be dependent on the others. The hypothesis that Luke usedMatthew, which they form from this information, requires carefulstatement. To prove it, we must look for something more precisethan just Luke’s knowledge of Matthaean passages or even ofMatthaean themes. These would indicate only that Luke knewMatthew’s sources which brings us back to the beginning of theSynoptic Problem. We must find hard evidence that Luke knewMatthew’s style and editorial activity to place his knowledge of


Matthew beyond doubt. According to Sanders and Davies, suchevidence is indeed forthcoming from the text of Luke.25

I reproduce here their argument which seems to me quiteplausible. In the story of the many from east and west, Luke 13.28preserves the phrase from Matthew 8.12 that there will be‘weeping and gnashing of teeth’ among those who deserveeschatological punishment. It is easier to suppose that Luke copiedMatthew in this than that both independently copied Q becauseMatthew often uses the phrase but Luke never does again (andMark never does at all). In the Commission of the Twelve (Luke 9.1–6=Mark 6.6b–13 =Matthew 9.35; 10.1, 7–11, 14) there areseveral agreements between Matthew and Luke. One of them isvery striking. In 9.5 Luke says that the disciples, if rejected, mustshake off the dust from their feet when they leave ‘that town’. Thisphrase agrees verbatim with Matthew 10.14 but the context isstrikingly different: Luke 9.4 says ‘whatever house you enter’ andnothing about towns. Matthew 10.11 has the words ‘whatevertown or village you enter’ which make the succeeding phraserelevant. Luke 9–4 is based apparently on Mark 6.10 (‘when youenter a house…’) and not on Matthew. The best explanation isthat Luke has used both Matthew and Mark. The alternative—that Luke’s reading is coincidental—is not at all convincing.

Thirdly, in the story of John the Baptist (Mark 1.2–3 andparallels) Mark’s statement about John (‘Behold I send’…) is fromMalachi 3.1 or Exodus 23.20 but not a precise citation of either.Matthew and Luke lack the ‘Behold I send’ (but agree in placing itelsewhere; see Matthew 11.10=Luke 7.27), and have their ownversion of the scriptural citation which in both cases ends with thewords emprosthen sou, ‘before you’. Emprosthen is a favouriteword of Matthew’s, and here Luke agrees with Matthew againstMark, Exodus and Malachi. This makes the suggestion that Lukeused Matthew an irresistible one, for otherwise Luke wouldcoincidentally have produced a citation which Matthew alsorecords. That would stretch credulity to breaking point.

Sanders and Davies also include a discussion of the Griesbachhypothesis (the view that Mark is a redaction of Matthew andLuke).26 They see it as ‘mechanically feasible’ but ask why Markshould have written a Gospel that contains so many omissions ofconsequence which are balanced merely by trivial insertions. Thelack of a convincing reason for the writing of Mark is the Achillesheel of the Griesbach hypothesis. This argument represents a


substantial objection to the theory that Mark is the third Gospel inchronological sequence. And the observation that Mark is moreoften the middle term than Matthew tends to support the theory ofMarcan priority, with the proviso noted here that there may havebeen more than one edition of Mark.

I conclude therefore that Luke’s sources were (or included) Markand Matthew and I am far from convinced that it is necessary toposit the hypothetical Q, a version of which has never beendiscovered (and which I think constitutes a substantial problem forthe theory). Luke was thus the third Gospel in the chronologicalsequence but I repeat that we do not know for sure that ourversion of Luke is the original one. Such uncertainty continues tomake all study of Gospel relations a troublesome area.

If Luke used the other Synoptists, it is a reasonable assumptionthat part of his intention was to rework what they say. At thispoint we must briefly mention the theory of Eric Franklin that Lukewas an interpreter of Paul and a critic of Matthew.27 Franklinthinks that Luke reinterprets Paul’s theological position in the lightof his perception that Christianity is the fulfilment and logicaloutcome of Judaism.28 Luke used Mark as a primary source. Markdetermined the overall shape and outlook of the Gospel. Franklinthinks that Luke redeployed Matthew with a freedom related tohis post-Pauline view that the Law no longer has a part to play indefining the boundaries of the people of God.29 Luke tones downMatthew’s attitude to the Law and is less hostile than he to theJews. Luke is less confident about the present than Matthew anddepicts the kingdom, although actually in the heavens, as hoveringover but not yet realized in the contemporary situation.

I shall examine Franklin’s views more closely in Chapter 6 andmention them here only to indicate that Luke may be a polemicaltext of sorts. Franklin is certainly wise to acknowledge thepossibility, against Michael Goulder, that Luke may have usedother sources besides Mark and Matthew.30 This is intrinsicallyplausible although we cannot necessarily say what those sourceswere. The oral tradition must not be neglected in this assessment.It is sobering to recollect how little we actually know about thecomplex process which yielded the canonical Gospels.


A SYNOPSIS OF LUKE

Before reading Luke it will be helpful to take a broad panorama onwhat the Gospel contains.

Luke begins with a description of the births of John the Baptistand Jesus (chapters 1–2) which is not found in Mark (or for thatmatter in John). This material resembles Matthew’s InfancyNarrative in style but not for the most part in content. The LucanInfancy Narrative makes Jesus the promised Messiah born of thetribe of David. The significance of his mission is demonstrated bythe Canticles (especially 2.29–32). The presumed death of Simeonafter the Nunc Dimittis (‘I have seen with my own eyes thedeliverance you have made ready’, 2.30–1) demonstrates thateschatological salvation has arrived with Jesus. This is crucial to theGospel’s plot where the story of salvation forms the majorundercurrent to the story of Jesus and gives that story its meaning.

Chapter 3 tells the stories of John the Baptist and the baptism ofJesus. It counters the suggestion that John is Messiah and reservesthis accolade for Jesus (3.15–17). Immediately after the baptism,a dominant tendency in Luke becomes evident. Geography is apowerful tool in the Gospel (as it is in Acts). There is a sense in whichthe spread of the Christian gospel can be compared to a ripple asLuke describes it. It begins in Galilee, spreads to Jerusalem, thenbeyond Palestine and finally, at the end of Acts, to Rome so thatthe two cities of prominence in the author’s mind are visited in thetwo texts.

This process of expansion begins early in Luke. Chapter 4records Jesus’ sermon in the synagogue at his home town ofNazareth (after the temptation story, 4.1–13). Jesus hereannounces that the prophecy of Isaiah 61 (‘the Spirit of the Lord isupon me’) has been fulfilled in the presence of the congregation,with the implication that he is the one through whom God’seschatological enfranchisement is being discharged (4.14–30).From Nazareth Jesus goes to Capernaum (7.1) and thence to thetowns and villages of Galilee (8.1). In the course of this journey heimparts teaching (notably in chapter 6) and works miracles,particularly the casting-out of demons which is an importantfeature of the plot because it demonstrates the onset of thekingdom of God.

There is a watershed in the Gospel in chapter 9 where SimonPeter identifies Jesus as the Messiah and the narrator says that


Jesus forbids the promulgation of this knowledge (9.21). Thisincident is followed by the Transfiguration (9.28–36), in whichJesus appears to three disciples as a heavenly being, and the reportof his decision to go to Jerusalem (9.51). The connection betweenthe two events is far from incidental in the Gospel’s plot. Thejourney has, in Luke’s eyes, the status of a messianic visitationwhich will be emphasized in the story of the triumphal entry (seebelow). The Gospel gains its pathos from the fact that Jesusjourneys to Jerusalem as Messiah only to be rejected by the Jewishauthorities and crucified by the Romans. There is, however, thehint that he will visit Jerusalem again and that this time hisvisitation will be for judgment (see especially 13.35b).

The ‘central section’ of the Gospel (chapters 10–19) reads some-what lamely after the drama of chapter 9. This section contains alarge amount of teaching which is held together by loose narrativelinks that seem rather artificial and are not always consistent. Theydo, however, demonstrate that Luke retains the form of a storyeven when the author is not concerned directly with narrative. Theteaching in this section is both ethical and eschatological incontent. It is addressed to Luke’s readers. For this reason itis significant that it should begin with an affirmation of theChristian mission. In chapter 10 Jesus sends out seventy (seventy-two?) messengers and tells them to prepare for his visit to thetowns and villages bordering the Jordan (10.1–12). Instructionsare given for the provision and reception of hospitality. Theseventy-two exult in their mission on their return, says thenarrator (10.17). They tell Jesus that even the demons hadsubmitted in his name. This is followed by a vision of Jesus whichstates the meaning of his mission: ‘I saw Satan fall, like lightning,from heaven’ (10.18). The Christian mission, confirmed by Jesus,continues his own preaching activity. The passage directlyencourages readers to participate in the mission.

In this central section of the Gospel we find many familiarsayings and parables of Jesus. Here are the good Samaritan (10.25–37), the Lord’s Prayer (11.2–4) and the prodigal son (15.11–32).Despite the awkward transitions we would be much the poorerwithout this material. Luke was content to let the narrative serveloosely as a framework for the teaching. If this jars on modernreaders, that is how it is. It would be wrong to skim through thesechapters just because the links are awkward and imprecise.


Nevertheless the device of geographical progress is preserved in18.35 and 19.1 by describing how Jesus approaches and thenenters Jericho. Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem is a journey towards hisdeath as Luke explains it. The inexorable progress is emphasizedby Luke’s geographical interest. 19.28 describes how Jesus ‘set outon the ascent to Jerusalem’ and 19.29 how he came to the Mountof Olives. This is followed by the story of the triumphal entry (19.29–40) which has the nature of a messianic visitation of Jerusalem.The Messiah arrives in the Jewish capital only to be rejected by theleaders of the Jewish religion.

The cleansing of the temple is briefly described in 19.45–6. Lukedescribes how Jesus drives out the traders from the temple. Thissignificant episode, reported only briefly, is followed by thestatement that the powerful people want to bring about his deathbut are powerless to do so because the people hang on his words(19.47–8). It is only at this point in the Gospel that the authoritiesdecide to kill Jesus (this should be contrasted with Mark 3.6).

The rest of the Gospel describes the growing hostility to Jesus. Atthe beginning of chapter 20 the chief priests and others ask a trickquestion to undermine his authority (20.1–8). This is followed bythe parable of the vineyard (20.9–16) in which the landlord’s onlyson is killed by the tenants (as Jesus will soon be killed). Again, thechief priests want to seize Jesus but are ‘afraid’ to do so (a nuancedstatement) because of the people (20.19). They ‘sent agents in theguise of honest men, to seize on some word of his that they coulduse as a pretext for handing him over to the authority andjurisdiction of the governor’ (20.20). These agents, testing himagain, ask whether it is lawful to pay taxes to Caesar (20.21–6).They are given a suitably discreet answer (20.25). The Sadduceesnext question him about the resurrection (20.27–38), after which‘nobody dared put any further question to him’ (20.40). Thesubstance of this section is that no-one could convict Jesus ofmisbehaviour no matter how hard they tried.

Chapter 21 is Luke’s version of the Synoptic eschatologicaldiscourse. 21.20 is a prediction of the Roman destruction ofJerusalem which took place in 70 CE. The verse undoubtedly showsknowledge of that event. This dates Luke after this time andpresents 70 CE as a stage in the eschatological process which Jesushimself had predicted. It reminds the readers that many of theeschatological signs have been accomplished already. It is in thislight that they are reminded of the hope for the coming of the Son


of Man ‘in a cloud with power and great glory’ (21.27). This versesounds a note of eschatological imminence. The chapter ends witha warning that the end might happen at any time: ‘Be on yourguard; do not let your minds be dulled…so that the great daycatches you suddenly’ (21.34). This warning represents the heartof Luke’s eschatological teaching.

Chapter 22 begins the dénouement of the Gospel. The Passoveris approaching (22.1). The chief priests and scribes want to disposeof Jesus (22.2). Satan enters into Judas Iscariot (having bided histime since 4.13). Judas goes to the priests and offers to betrayJesus for money (22.3–6). The main part of chapter 22 describesthe Last Supper. Jesus vows not to eat bread and drink wine untilhe does so new in the kingdom of God (22.16, 18). After supperJesus goes with the disciples to the Mount of Olives where a crowdappears with Judas to arrest him. Jesus is taken to the house of theHigh Priest for a summary trial whose purpose is to gain evidenceto denounce him to the Romans (22.66–71). Pilate is notconvinced by this evidence. He wants to release Jesus but cavilsunder pressure from ‘the chief priests, councillors, and people’ (23.13), having sent Jesus to Herod for review (23.6–12). Jesus is givenover ‘to their will’ (23.25) and led away for execution (23.26). Atthe moment of his death the centurion pronounces that ‘beyond alldoubt, this man was innocent’ (23.47). Jesus is laid in Joseph ofArimathea’s tomb, carefully watched by the women (23.49–56).

Luke concludes with the resurrection of Jesus. There are twokinds of story in chapter 24. This chapter describes both thediscovery of the empty tomb and the resurrection appearances ofJesus. Their combined force is to create the impression that theresting of Jesus’ body in the tomb is not the end of him. Whateverthe cause of the empty tomb—and more than one reason has beenproposed to explain it—it makes the point that the absence of thebody is related to the heavenly Lordship of Jesus which is attestedboth by the resurrection appearances and by the ascensionnarrative (24.50–1).

Luke closes by describing the departure of Jesus. This raises thequestion of his heavenly presence through which the whole Gospelgains its meaning and which is developed more coherently in theearly chapters of Acts, especially in the speeches (e.g. Acts 2.22–36).


Chapter 2Luke as a narrative

We have seen that Luke tells the story of Jesus, albeit selectively,from the period before his birth until after his death with theresurrection and ascension. Any interpretation of Luke must takeaccount of this fundamental narrative structure. In this chapter Iwant to examine the narrative basis of the Gospel and to ask howthis can best be approached from the perspective of literarycriticism.

To do this demands an initial explanation of ‘narrative criticism’and of what constitutes a narrative. Much has been written aboutboth matters in the field of literary studies. We must consider avariety of issues including plot, readers, characterization andmanner of narration.

WHAT IS NARRATIVE CRITICISM?

‘Narrative criticism’, as an approach to the Gospels, recognizes theprimacy of the present form of text and assumes that, although theGospels are part of the scriptural canon, they can be interpreted bythe same kinds of methods as secular narratives. Narrative criticismis one of the newer approaches to the Gospels which have beenexplored in the twentieth century. It will be helpful initially toreview its predecessors.

The early part of the twentieth century was dominated by theapproach called ‘form criticism’.1 The form critics believed that theGospels (like the Hebrew narratives) represent the fusion, andpresentation in written form, of traditions which had previouslyenjoyed oral circulation. They held that these oral traditions wereshaped by the circumstances which they addressed in the life of theprimitive church. In order to interpret a particular passage, theform critics argued, it is necessary to identify how a

particular saying was used in the church, and then to ask how thechurch adapted a saying of Jesus to support that usage (if indeedthe saying really originated with Jesus). Rudolph Bultmann dividedthe Synoptic material into ‘sayings’ and ‘narratives’.2 MartinDibelius went so far as to distinguish six kinds of material in theGospels: sermons, paradigms, tales, legends, passion story andmyth.3

It will be seen from this brief summary that form criticism isessentially an historical method. It involves seeing the text as arepository of earlier traditions and combing the material for thedifferent layers of tradition that lie behind it. Form criticismexudes the confidence that this procedure can successfully beundertaken and that the results which are obtained in this way arevaluable ones.

Form criticism has two main weaknesses. First of all, it tends todivert interest from the present form of text through its interest inthe traditions that lie behind it. This has the effect, secondly, ofpresenting the Evangelists mainly as compilers of material and notthemselves as creative writers. On this view, the differencesbetween the Gospels are explained through recourse to the theorythat each Evangelist handled the traditional material in a differentway. Attention rests with the generic classification of forms and notwith the interests of the Evangelists themselves.

AsecondmajorapproachtotheGospelsiscalled‘redactioncriticism’.4 This approach was introduced in the 1950s intwo books: Conzelmann’s Luke and Willi Marxsen’s Mark theEvangelist.5 Redaction criticism analyzes the way in which thematerial is arranged in a particular Gospel. The form criticscompared the Evangelists to threaders of beads on a string. Theredaction critics showed that they threaded their beads in aparticular way. Their arrangement of material is by no means ahaphazard one. Redaction criticism agrees with form criticism thatmuch of the Gospels’ material is traditional but argues that theexamination of how that material is handled reveals theperspectives of the different Evangelists. The redaction criticsexamined literary factors like vocabulary, style and compositionaltechniques to see how the Gospels vary from each other.

It should not be assumed that redaction criticism produces anoverall ‘theology’ of the Evangelists. Its aims are more limited thanthis. A redactional study of Luke does not study all of Luke’stheological convictions but merely his handling of the traditions he

22 LUKE AS A NARRATIVE

received and the consequences which this has fordetermining Luke’s purpose in the Gospel. Redaction criticismtries to isolate the unique theological purpose of each Gospel butnot to produce a comprehensive theology of the Gospels.

Many redaction critics assume the ‘two-source’ solution to theSynoptic Problem. They posit that Matthew and Luke used Markand Q independently of each other. More recently, with thegrowing challenge to this solution, redaction criticism has focussedon Luke’s use of his sources, particularly on the possibility that heused Matthew as well as Mark. This is the special feature ofMichael Goulder’s book, Luke: A New Paradigm (1989).

A variant on redaction criticism is ‘composition criticism’.Composition criticism extends the scope of redaction criticism byfocussing on those themes and words which are consideredimportant for the Evangelist’s theology.6 It places theology at theforefront of a reading of the Gospels and offers a morecomprehensive view of the theology than redaction criticism. Anexample of Lucan composition criticism is Robert O’Toole’s TheUnity of Luke’s Theology (1984).

With narrative criticism, the emphasis is different. Narrativecriticism represents a turning-away from theology in a reading ofthe Gospels and an interest in the structural mechanics of the text.The difference in outlook from the older methods should not beminimized. Moore goes so far as to argue that narrative criticismrepresents an importation into biblical studies and that it is notsimply the child of redaction and composition criticism.7 Narrativecriticism does not deny the importance of theology but it doesobserve that theology, far from being brought into the text as itwere from an outside store-cupboard, is part of the Gospel’s formand does not (and cannot) precede the form of the narrative. Inorder to understand the Gospels we must consider their structureand the way in which the story is told. This demands attention toplot and characterization, aporias and irony. The story that theGospels tell is not just a vehicle for its theology but a significantentity in its own right.

Several books on the Gospels employ a narrative-criticalapproach. An example is Alan Culpepper’s Anatomy of the FourthGospel (1983).8 Culpepper cites Murray Krieger’s distinctionbetween the use of a text as window and mirror. The ‘window’approach is one in which scholars use the Fourth Gospel (likeother New Testament literature) to reconstruct a picture of the

LUKE AS A NARRATIVE 23

Johannine community. They peer through the text to see what liesbehind it.

The mirror approach, by contrast, locates the meaning of thetext in the relationship between the text and the reader. Culpeppercomments:

Meaning is produced in the experience of reading the text asa whole and making the mental moves the text calls for itsreader to make, quite apart from the questions concerning itssources and origin. As one reads the gospel, the voice of thenarrator introduces the narrative world of the text, itscharacters, values, norms, conflicts, and the events whichconstitute the plot of the story. The narrator conveys theauthor’s perspective to the reader and sends signals whichestablish expectations, distance and intimacy, and powerfullyaffect the reader’s sense of identification and involvement.The narrator’s claims and the norms of the story woo,beckon and challenge the reader to believe that the story, itsnarrative world, and its central character reveal somethingprofoundly true about the ‘real’ world in which the readerlives.9

Culpepper includes chapters on the role of the narrator in John, onnarrative time, plot, characters, implicit commentary and impliedreader. This represents a sea-change from the older Johanninescholarship which was preoccupied with the history of theJohannine community, not least with the question of how theFourth Gospel relates to the Johannine Epistles. Narrative criticismhas the effect, initially, of shifting attention from the question ofwhether there is historical tradition in the Fourth Gospel (as inother texts) to the recognition that the Johannine Jesus is first andforemost a character in the story. This is the matrix through whichthe historical questions must be asked. Such questions cannot beposed at all until we take account of John’s literary character.

‘Narrative criticism’ is also explored in a book published byMark A.Powell in 1990.10 Powell points out that the term has apeculiar reference to biblical studies and lacks a precisecounterpart in secular criticism: ‘If classified by secular critics, itmight be viewed as a subspecies of the new rhetorical criticism oras a variety of the reader-response movement.’11 Powell hereidentifies the variegated nature of the method and refuses to accept


that it can be reduced to a simple or convenient formula. He drawsattention to the role of the reader and his or her response to thetext. Powell discusses the work of Fish and Iser on the approach ofthe first-time reader, and Fish’s later work on the function of‘interpretive communities’. He introduces the concept of the‘implied reader’ and defines ‘a story’ as encompassing events,characters and settings: ‘Somebody does something to someone,somewhere, at some time. The “something” that is done is anevent, the “somebody” and “someone” are characters, and the“somewhere” and “sometime” are settings.’12

It should be clearer from this review what I am trying to do inthis book. My aim is to offer a reading of Luke which takesaccount of its literary character and to examine the features thatmake the story work. This will include consideration of Powell’sthree areas: events, characters and setting. I have called his ‘events’the plot, and his ‘settings’ narrative time, but otherwise myapproach is similar to his. Although I shall not ignore historicaland redactional questions, my aim is first and foremost to readLuke as a story and to examine how it makes its effect on you andme, the readers. This takes precedence (at least initially) over theattempt to construct a morphology of Lucan ideas.

In setting out my programme, I want to express one fear thatcame to me from a reading of Culpepper’s book. This is the worrythat ‘narrative criticism’ can be used as an excuse for presentingthe Gospels as homogeneous documents by explaining theirtensions and problems with reference to the potentially obscurenature of the reader’s response. (I am not accusing Culpepper ofdoing this but presenting my response to a reading of his work.)There is the constant danger that ‘narrative criticism’ can becomethe vehicle for disguising or even removing problems from the textwhen in fact the act of reading throws up new problems at everystep. This is in the nature of the reading process itself. A briefexample from Luke will show what I mean. For years I simplyassumed, having been told it was true, that Matthew and Lukeboth advocate the doctrine of the virgin birth. It was only when Iwas writing this book that I saw that Luke’s account is moreambiguous than is often acknowledged, and that the virgin birthhas to be inferred by the reader from the text and is notdefinitively stated there. Some readers may choose not to find itthere at all. Emphasizing the absence of a definitive statement is avalid reading of what Luke says about the virgin birth. This makes


reading Luke a dangerous process for those who see the virginbirth as a sine qua non of Christian theology and whosepresuppositions are challenged by the discovery that the narrativeis not quite so forthright on this point.

Even more dangerous—or challenging—is the paradigmshift that is currently taking place in New Testament studieswhereby the belief in a metaphysical ‘other’—for instance theexistence of God or the necessary validity of Christianity—isremoved as a presupposition for reading the literature. Moore hasan interesting comparison between what is happening now andwhat took place earlier in the twentieth century when RudolphBultmann announced his ‘demythologizing’ programme: ‘Today, itis biblical criticism itself that cries out for demythologizing. Andwhereas the modernist demythologizer, Bultmann, found itnecessary to wrestle critically with the New Testament’s renderingof the metaphysical in terms of the contingent, “the other side interms of this side”, the postmodern demythologizer will find itnecessary to address the New Testament critic’s propensity torender “this side in terms of the other side”.’13

Moore is right to say that narrative criticism may not turn out tobe the comforting thing it could be assumed to be. My aim here isnot to argue the case that we can, or should, attempt exegesiswithout Caputo’s ‘celestial, transcendental justifications’,14 but tomake the more restricted point that reading Luke can be adangerous and even a subversive business as well as a reassuringone. This is because readers continually discover a range ofmeanings there and because the readings offered by some peoplemay subvert those which others hold dear.

No single reading can exhaust the range of meaning in Luke (orany other text). Luke itself proves this point in the parable of thesower (Luke chapter 8). The form critics say that this parable wasdeveloped into an allegory in the primitive church. Originally,perhaps, there were only two kinds of ground: that which borefruit and that which did not. The allegorical interpretation Lukegives the parable means that it has acquired a potentially unlimitedrange of meaning. The different meanings which it is given inbooks, articles and sermons confirm that this is so. We read thisstory of Jesus and construct its meaning as we hear and talk aboutit. The sower reminds us that we should not think that any singleinterpretation of the parable—not even Luke’s interpretation of it—has a final and decisive significance. What emerges is the need for


further and continual interpretation. This is enjoined upon thereader by Luke’s own allegorical interpretation.

Or take the view that the Last Supper is really the last supper.15

The title ‘Last Supper’ comes from Jesus’ statement that he will noteat bread or drink wine until he does so new in the kingdom ofGod (22.16, 18). The finality of this statement is howevercontroverted not much later in the Gospel by the further statementthat Jesus breaks bread with the disciples whom he joins on theroad to Emmaus (24.30). This is not to descry the narrativeintegrity of Luke 22 but to observe that the fraction in Luke gainsits weighty meaning through repetition. It is repeated whenever theGospel is read. The fraction is repeated again at every Christianeucharist in a further demonstration of the point that Jesus’ hopesabout the future have yet to be realized.

This brings us to the area of deconstruction and to the groundinhabited by Derrida. My aim in Chapter 3 is not to offer aDerridean reading of Luke which exposes its contradictions andsubverts some dominant meanings (although I shall move in thatdirection in Chapter 4). I do however want to note the problemswhich the text raises and to explain how I have (provisionally)dealt with them. In doing this, I want to argue that Luke is lesshomogeneous than some scholars suggest and in particular toexplore the contradictions in the narrative whereby layers ofmeaning are suggested to the reader. It would be wrong—indeeddishonest—to pretend that this is not the case and to make the actof reading a simplistic exercise which looks only for harmony andcontinuity.

WHAT IS A NARRATIVE?

Our next task is to consider the nature of narrative. I begin with acitation from a theorist in the field:

Whenever a piece of news is conveyed, whenever somethingis reported, there is a mediator—the voice of a narrator isaudible. I term this phenomenon ‘mediacy’ (Mittelarkeit).Mediacy is the general characteristic which distinguishesnarrative from other forms of literary art.16

Stanzel here introduces ‘a narrative’ as a story mediated to thereader by the narrator. The fact of mediacy makes it a narrative.


Narratives occur in every area of human life and in a plenitude offorms. We are concerned here with Luke as a narrative text (ratherthan say, a tone poem or stained-glass window). A text is ‘a finite,structured whole composed of language signs’.17 The designation ofLuke as a narrative text depends on the fact that, in it, a sequenceof events—a story—is related by a narrator. The narrator in Lukeis undramatized—that is to say, he does not play a part in thestory. One of the features of Luke’s narrator is that he does notagree at every point with the implied author or the centralcharacter. Nevertheless, he is a crucial feature of the text. Luke’sstory is composed of a variety of smaller units (many of themderived from the earlier Gospels). The narrator is responsible forthe (in)coherence which emerges when these units are readtogether. His story comes to life in the act of reading. It impacts onthe readers in such a way as to provoke a response in and fromthem.

As with other narratives, the readers’ response depends on whatthe story is and how it is told. No two stories are the same, nor aretwo story-tellers or ways of telling a story (and thus no twoGospels). Narrative as a process involves an infinite variety, henceStanzel’s description of it as an ‘art-form’. The artist’s skill lies inshaping the different possibilities and in constructing the variouselements to yield the finished product.

WHAT MAKES THE GOSPELS NARRATIVES?

The question arises of what makes the Gospels narratives. Thisshould be formally answered (and the answer not merelyassumed). The point is that the Gospels relate a story which ismediated to the reader by the narrator. The narrator introducesthe plot and explains the conditions under which it operates. Hetells the reader the meaning of the plot and the motives of thecharacters (notably Jesus) as well as what happens in the drama.

The story which the four Gospels tell—their ‘plot’—is differentin every case. In Luke, the narrator introduces the reader to Jewishhistory through his description of John’s birth with its backgroundin Hebrew literature. The main part of the story concerns theevents of the life of Jesus and the tragedy of his death. Lukecontinues his story in his second volume which is, broadlyspeaking, the story of the primitive church. A further theme inLuke’s plot is the attention which is given to external events,


including the information specified by 3.1 and the affinities I havenoticed with Greek historiography.

Since Luke is a mediated story, we must examine the nature ofthat story and the conditions of mediacy under which it operates.This is what I shall do in the rest of this chapter. I begin with afurther consideration of the question of authorship (which is morecomplicated than we have so far assumed).

THE REAL AUTHOR

All narratives are written by a ‘real author’. The real author is theperson who puts the pen to paper and leaves the text in its finishedform. We may or may not know who the real author is but his orher’s is the abiding genius which leaves its mark on the text. In thecase of Luke we have seen that the ‘real author’ is a more or lessanonymous Christian of the late first century who was perhaps aGentile, a companion of Paul and who may have been a doctor.

One of the contentions of this book is that all the Gospelsprobably passed through different recensions. We do not not knowhow many recensions but a simple answer to the question of howthe Gospels evolved is unlikely to be convincing. This view hasimplications for evaluating the question of the ‘real author’. Is thereal author the person who wrote the original Luke or the personwho left the Gospel in the form that we now know Luke? Theanswer, of course, is that we do not know. The ‘real author’ is asmuch the reader’s construct as the ‘implied author’ whom I willintroduce in a moment. We reconstruct the real author from whatwe learn about him or her from internal and especially fromexternal evidence. In the case of Luke we do not have very muchevidence to work on. I shall assume that one person wasresponsible for the main part of the text but that others may haveexpanded what he wrote. The most intriguing question is whetherthis person wrote the Infancy Narrative (chapters 1–2). To thisthere is no definite answer, but perhaps some indication that he didwrite this material.

THE IMPLIED AUTHOR

Luke as we know him is essentially an ‘implied author’. The‘implied author’ is the author as he or she is reconstructed by the


reader from the narrative. Wayne Booth illustrates the ‘impliedauthor’ by discussing the work of Henry Fielding:

The author of Jonathan Wild is by implication very muchconcerned with public affairs and with the effects ofunchecked ambition on the ‘great men’ who attain to powerin the world. If we had only this novel by Fielding, we wouldinfer from it that in his real life he was much more single-mindedly engrossed in his role as magistrate and reformer ofpublic manners than is suggested by the implied author ofJoseph Andrews and Tom Jones —to say nothing of Shamela(what would we infer about Fielding if he had never writtenanything but Shamela!).18

It goes without saying that the stance adopted by ‘implied author’can vary from text to text, although the real author is the same,and even from one part of a text to another. The implied authorshould not be confused with the real author, especially not in theabsence of concrete information about the real author (let thereader of the Gospels beware!). He is however related to the realauthor in that he is the real author’s own creation and the productof his literary skill and judgment.

The recognition that there is an implied author in every textcompensates for the fact that, as so often with ancient literature, weknow little or nothing about the actual author. We shall nowintroduce ourselves to Luke’s implied author.

William Kurz proposes the following points about Luke’simplied author.19 In the Preface Luke introduces himself as acareful historical investigator who sifts evidence and presents it ina coherent narrative. In this context he uses terms which occur innon-biblical history. Luke is moreover the only Gospel to beaddressed to a named patron. The agreement in this withJosephus’ Against Apion shows this self-conscious literary outlookas the primary face of Luke’s implied author.

Kurz also presents him as an ‘insider’ or Christian. The use ofthe first-person plural, again especially in the Preface, makes thisLuke the representative of the Christian community who presentsan(other) ordered version of the story of Jesus. This in turnexplains his choice of material, which is determined by hismembership of the church and his knowledge of the oral andwritten records about Jesus. He chooses to write in a style that


recalls earlier Jewish narrative like the books of Samuel, the Kingsand the Maccabees. The implied author takes upon himself thecatechetical purpose of confirming the truth about whichTheophilus has been orally instructed (1.4).

Luke’s style presents him as an author who knows bothHellenistic and biblical Greek. Kurz thinks that the abrupttransition from the elegant and extended complex Preface to thebiblical paratactic style ‘seems too deliberately conspicuous to beoverlooked’.20 It is not just a stylistic variation but the consciousdeclaration of purpose or intention in the Gospel. Luke begins withthe claim to investigate matters in the style of Greekhistoriography but his language quickly makes the point that theplot is essentially a biblical one and the story rooted in the contextof Jewish eschatology. This is a good example of the need forreaders to examine how something is said as well as what is said inthe Gospels. Luke is writing, as it were, with double vision. He hasan eye to the Greek world but he reminds readers who approachfrom that perspective that his subject-matter cannot be understoodapart from Jewish hopes about the future.

A point worth considering is whether the implied author of Lukeis identical with the implied author of Acts given that Actsincorporates ‘we’-passages whereas Luke does not. Kurz notes thatLuke’s eyewitness claims are more moderate than Josephus’ andthat the ‘we’-passages demand only limited participation in Paul’smaritime travel. Yet there is a difference in perspective given thatin one text the implied author admits to not being an eyewitness ofthe events he records (Luke 1.1–4), but in another claims to haveparticipated in Paul’s journeys. We should not too readily acceptthat the persona of the implied author is identical in the two textsmentioned.

We should add to Kurz’s assessment Dawsey’s point that theimplied author knows how to distinguish between the words ofJesus and the commentary of the narrator and presents himself as acomplex figure who allows ambiguities to remain in the text.21 Hisclaim to have investigated things carefully is substantiated by thisobservation. Luke has certainly edited the words of Jesus but hisattempt to preserve earlier tradition (i.e. tradition about Jesus) isan honest one. Luke was aided by his knowledge of Mark andMatthew which he has reworked but by no means entirely recast.


THE NARRATOR

Distinct from the implied author (and the characters) is thenarrator. The narrator is a rhetorical agent who guides the readerthrough the narrative, introduces him to its world and charactersand supplies the perspective from which the action can (or should)be viewed. The narrator may or may not be a character in thestory (he is not in Luke). He may disagree with the implied author,in which case he is known as an ‘unreliable narrator’.

Luke’s narrator speaks with a distinctive voice and has his owncharacteristic phrases and expressions. Dawsey shows that thenarrator avoids some of the most important christological titles inthe Gospel, such as ‘Son of Man’, ‘King’, ‘Son of David’ and‘Prophet’, and habitually calls Jesus ‘Lord’ (e.g. 3.4, 10.1, 22.61).22

This title is shared with other speakers (e.g. Elizabeth, 1.43; thedisciples, 10.17). In this, the narrator associates himself with thosecharacters in the Gospel who are aware of Jesus’ power and oftheir own dependence on it. In other words, ‘the narrator defineshimself as part of the believing community’.23 He is a Christian ofthe late first century who tells the story of Jesus to readers of hisown day. He calls Jesus ‘Lord’ to emphasize the connectionbetween the narrative and the liturgical Jesus which reflects theGospel’s first use in the context of worship.

The narrator’s mode of speech is shown by the shift in style thattakes place between the Preface and the Infancy Narrative. Thisshift is the author’s own deliberate manoeuvre. Eduard Nordenthinks that it was done to remind the reader that the story couldhave been told in Attic Greek but that this was not in fact thepreferred mode of exposition.24 The language of the InfancyNarrative links the story to the world of biblical narrative andpresents the narrator in that light. This change in the style ofspeech is accompanied by the change from first-person to third-person reporting. That draws attention to the narrator and putshim on the centre of the stage even when the characters aredelivering their most memorable lines.

Dawsey notes that the narrator’s speech is weighted very heavilywith particles—‘and’ and ‘but’ are foremost among them.25 Thenarrator’s short, simple sentences have their matrix in an oralsetting. (This orality is a not insignificant feature of the distinctionbetween ancients and post-moderns as ‘actual readers’ of the text.)


Dawsey also shows that the narrator uses certain expressionswhich are not employed by the characters: ‘and it happened’,‘answering, he said’ and ‘praising God’ are examples of this.26

These formulae are found in the Septuagint but were apparentlynot otherwise characteristic of speech in the first century CE.Dawsey follows Matthew Black and Fred Horton in arguing thatthe domain of this speech is the specialized language of earlyChristian worship. This means that the Gospel is not onlyaddressed to a worshipping community but that it also reflects thelanguage of that community. That explains the narrator’sdistinctive but nevertheless affected voice (which is accentuated bythe way in which, these elements apart, it generally coheres withgood Hellenistic style).

Luke’s narrator is on the face of it an omniscient creature whoknows not just the sequence of the narrative but also the meaningof what happens there. There is an example of this in 9.51: ‘Asthe time approached when he was to be taken up to heaven,(Jesus) set his face resolutely towards Jerusalem’. This statementmixes reporting with interpretation and tells the reader whatsignificance the journey to Jerusalem has in the Gospel’s plot. It isthrough the narrator’s commentary, so it seems, that the readersavoid the characters’ misunderstandings. The narrator tells peoplewho Jesus is at the beginning of the Gospel (e.g. 2.26). Thiscompensates for the fact that the Lucan Jesus is remarkablyunwilling to disclose his own identity.

This impression of the narrator’s omniscience, however, iscontroverted by the formal conclusion which Dawsey fails to drawand for which he is taken to task by Stephen Moore.27 This is thatLuke’s narrator is an ‘unreliable narrator’ who adopts a differentperspective from the implied author in the Gospel. We candiscover the implied author’s view by examining the way that theGospel is structured. Dawsey shows that the implied authorgenerally endorses what Jesus says and organizes the Gospel tosupport Jesus’ view of events.28 Dawsey produces two examples ofthis structural policy. The first is the sharp break between chapters1–2 and 3–24 of Luke. In the Infancy Narrative John the Baptistand the other speakers are oriented towards Israel. Chapters 1–2make John much more than just the forerunner of Jesus. He is asignificant figure in his own right. This is borne out in the directspeech of Jesus which disagrees with the narrator about John’sidentity. Jesus thinks of the Baptist as the eschatological Elijah who


heralds the kingdom of God. This is evident in 7.27 where Jesus callsJohn the herald who is more than a prophet. The implication isthat John heralds the kingdom which arrives with the ministry ofJesus (cf. 17.21; 19.11). The narrator, however, makes Johnprecede Jesus and not the kingdom. This is evident in the way hemakes Jesus’ statement follow John’s question: ‘are you the onewho is to come, or are we to wait for another?’ (7.19). Thenarrator’s interpretation allows a longer time for the kingdom toemerge (and thus includes the readers in the kingdom). But theInfancy Narrative supports Jesus’ view and not the narrator’s, forthere the kingdom arrives with the birth of Jesus and this is whatJohn heralds.

The second example is drawn from the motif of rejection inLuke. Jesus constantly emphasizes his own rejection by ‘the peopleof this generation’ (e.g. 11.29–32; 13.34). Through this rejection,which leads to his death, Jesus sees himself as becoming Christ (24.26). This is a major structural element in the Gospel whichdescribes how Jesus goes to his death but is then revealed asChrist. The narrator tones down Jesus’ emphasis on his rejection(a) by attributing it only to the authorities, (b) by emphasizingSatan’s role in it and (c) by setting it within the context of a historythat is predetermined by God. We find this reinterpretation inseveral narratorial passages. Throughout the Gospel, (a) thenarrator indicates that ‘the people’ receive Jesus but that variousJewish authorities dislike him. The best example is 7.29–30: ‘Whenthey heard him, all the people, including the tax-collectors,acknowledged the goodness of God, for they had accepted John’sbaptism; but the Pharisees and lawyers, who had refused hisbaptism, rejected God’s purpose for themselves.’ Here, therejection is assigned to a specific group in the Jewish communityand not to the community as a whole. Satan’s role (b) is explainedin two key passages in the Gospel. Ominously, at the end of thetemptation story, the narrator says that ‘the devil departed, bidinghis time’ (4.13). Satan reappears at the beginning of chapter 22where he enters into Judas to instigate the betrayal of Jesus (22.3).The implication is that, without Satan, there would have been nobetrayal or passion. The narrator’s belief that everything ispredetermined by God (c) is exemplified by his addition to Jesus’words in 24.26–7. Jesus asks the Emmaus disciples: ‘was not theMessiah bound to suffer in this way before entering upon hisglory?’ (24.26). The narrator adds: ‘then, starting from Moses and


all the prophets, he explained to them in the whole of scripture thethings that referred to himself’ (24.27). This makes the emphasisfall, not on the last phrase (‘before entering upon his glory’) but onthe word ‘bound’ which refers the death of Jesus to divine orscriptural necessity and neglects the point that this is the first timethat Jesus has called himself ‘Messiah’ in connection with hismission.

The narrator’s softening of the portrait of rejection issignificantly not supported by the structure of the story. Jesushimself does not want to die. We can see this from his impassionedplea to God on the Mount of Olives (22.39–46).29 The narratoradmits that Jesus does not want to die through his realisticdescription of the agony (22.43–4). The story does not even saythat God wants Jesus to die: neither Jesus nor the narrator presentthe divine will in such terms. The development of the story doesnot disguise the fact that Jesus is rejected and not merelymisunderstood. The trial narrative confirms this impression whenit indicates that Jesus is rejected and by everybody. In 23.13 thenarrator himself states that the ‘chief priests, councillors andpeople’ denounce Jesus before Pilate. This must mean, not just aminority of the population, but the whole population. Thisstatement agrees with Jesus’ words about the Son of Man in 17.25: ‘He must endure much suffering and be rejected by thisgeneration’ the hig hlighted te rm i s again an inclusive one. Eventhe disciples abandon Jesus, including Peter who had earliertrumpeted his support (22.33). This rejection by the disciples isparticularly heinous for they form part of the believing communityand profess their faith in Jesus throughout the Gospel (notably in9.20). Their denial serves to illustrate the point that Jesus isrejected and rejected by everybody in Luke. It is a universalrejection—and it is a rejection, not just a misunderstanding.

The fact that Luke’s implied author agrees with Jesus means thatthere is a continual dissonance between Jesus and the narrator inthe Gospel. Dawsey analyzes their direct speech to contrast theirdifferent understanding of things. While the narrator speaks thelanguage of worship, Jesus speaks the language of prophecy.30

Jesus calls himself a ‘prophet’ during his ministry (4.24) and‘Christ’ only after his resurrection (24.26). For Dawsey, this meansthat Jesus in Luke ‘is not the Christ until he dies on the cross andis raised…. Until such time he is a prophet’.31 The narrator nevercalls Jesus ‘a prophet’ at all. He thinks that Jesus is Christ from the


beginning (2.26) and introduces the messianic secret to explainwhy Jesus does not proclaim his Messiahship before theresurrection (9.21). For the narrator Jesus is not a rejected but amisunderstood Messiah. He emphasizes Satan’s part in thecrucifixion (e.g. 22.3) when Jesus states that Satan’s power hasalready been broken in his own ministry (10.18).32

Both the structure of the Gospel and the unreliable narrator arethe author’s own creations. We must presume that he has arrangedthings so for a purpose. This purpose is apparently the fact that thenarrator comments on the significance of Jesus from his faith-perspective that Jesus is the Lord. He thereby interprets the storyof Jesus for a later generation of readers. Part of thisreinterpretation is to make subtle changes to Jesus’ message whichsuit the altered situation. He tones down the emphasis on rejectionand reinterprets the preaching of the kingdom to allow for second-generation discipleship (see below). It is significant, however, thatLuke retains the tradition of the sayings of Jesus in a form whichcontroverts the narrator’s perspective. There is a fundamentaltension in the Gospel which our reading must not obscure.

Luke’s narrator is thus not the neutral figure that he seemson first appearance. The author has fashioned his narrator againstthe grain of his beliefs about Jesus. His distance from Jesus puzzlesthe readers and teases them into asking questions about themeaning of the story and the identity of the central character. Thisin turn makes them reflect on their stance as Christians in the latefirst century CE.

THE READERS

Recent study has drawn attention to the reader as a significantagent in the interpretation of a text.33 No longer is it possible tosee the reader as a passive vessel who waits to be filled withinformation. A text only comes to life in the act of reading. Thereader plays an active part in the creation of its meaning.

Part of the reader’s task is to decode the signs which the authorhas placed in the narrative. A sign is a symbol of meaning. Acollection of signs yields a pattern of thought. A text conditions itsreader to react in a particular way, as for instance through thecomments and presuppositions of the narrator, but the finalassembly of meaning rests with the reader and not with theauthor. This means that a reader can quite appropriately find


meanings in a text which were not consciously placed there by theauthor—even meanings with which the author might not haveagreed. One school of scholarship questions whether it isappropriate to speak about ‘authorial intention’ at all given thenature of the reading process.

Just as there is a ‘real author’ of a text, so there is an ‘actualreader’. The actual reader is the person who reads the text, be theya Christian in the first century or a reader of Luke today. Weshould not restrict the term to either category, although clearly areader today will find Luke a different text from a reader in thefirst century. We cannot say much about Luke’s first-centuryreaders since we do not know where the Gospel was written andfirst read. But we can make a series of judgments about the‘implied reader’ by asking how we as readers react to the signswhich the author has placed in the text.

There is, of course, an element of provisionality in any suchreconstruction. It is typified by the statement of Jesus in 9.23:‘Anyone who wants to be a follower of mine must renounce self;day after day he must take up his cross, and follow me.’ Does thismean that Luke was written for people who were already bearingthe cross, or for people who needed a reminder that they should bedoing this? Most commentators (including me) assume the latterbut this is of course a deduction and not an ‘assured result’ ofresearch. We do not know the precise circumstances of Luke’s firstreaders. This is why the reconstructed portrait remains aprovisional one.

Kurz cites Fitzmyer’s assessment as among the most helpfultreatments of Luke’s implied readers.34 Fitzmyer notes that Lukeshows fewer Jewish traits than either Matthew and Mark and thatthe Gospel has a Hellenistic Preface. Luke uses the term ‘Judaea’ todesignate the whole of Palestine. This accentuates the Christianoutreach to the Gentiles because it presents Judaism as a single,identifiable category. Luke also tries to relate Gentile Christianityto Judaism as if the text is written for readers who live outsidePalestine and are either Gentiles or else Christians of Jewish birthwho are concerned to preserve the continuity between Judaism andGentile Christianity.

Luke’s heavy use of biblical Greek, and the implied readers’presumed knowledge of the Septuagint, identifies them as peoplewith expertise in this area and thus as Christians rather than asinterested Romans who had not been instructed in Jewish matters.


That the readers were Christian and not Jewish is suggested by thecomparative lack of interest in specifically Jewish issues in theGospel. The Preface makes it virtually certain that the impliedreaders are Christians.

In support of this point it can be said that Jesus’ eschatologicaldiscourse in Luke 21 is Christian in content and contains littlematerial of relevance to Jews. It probably even distances Jewsthrough the use of polemic. Most Jews would not have shared thehope for the return of Jesus as the Son of Man which is the majorfeature of the Gospel’s eschatology. Luke was written for Christianreaders. The contents of the Gospel define the religious group forwhich it was written.

We can extend this portrait by returning to the fundamentalconfu-sion that I noticed in the text of Luke. This confusionfocuses on the identity of Jesus as the central character. Jesusremains a continual paradox in Luke. This is evident especially inhis dealings with opponents. The narrator makes the Phariseesoppose him (e.g. 7.30; 11.53–4), yet in their direct speech theyappear more confused than hostile. Their question about fasting (5.33–5) and their warning to Jesus (13.31) reveal an uncertaintyabout Jesus which is mirrored by other characters.Thoseresponsible for Jesus’ death are clearly fasci nated by him. Theircondemnation of Jesus works from the false and deeply ironicassumption that they know who he is. They ask him questions tosubstantiate their presumed knowledge but, as Jesus says to them,‘if I tell you…you will not believe me’ (22.67).

The paradox of Jesus is evident, too, in the way that the authorteases the readers into comparing him with some familiar Hebrewfigures such as Moses, Elijah and David. Luke’s story indicatesthat Jesus is like but also unlike such people. In the case of David,for example, Jesus is like David in that he will occupy the royalthrone (1.32) but unlike David because he refuses to beconstrained by that role and asks a question about the Messiah’senthronement in heaven (20.41–4; cf. Acts 2.34). This makes Jesusa continually enigmatic figure in the Gospel despite the narrator’sprovision of commentary.

This confusion impacts on the readers and encourages them torespond to it. They are invited to consider Jesus through theinformation provided by the Gospel. Dawsey shows that theEmmaus scene, as the dénouement of the Gospel, reveals its majorpurpose.35 The two disciples tell Jesus their disappointed hope that


he was to be a mighty prophet and the liberator of Israel (24.19–21). Jesus then comments on his mission: ‘Was not the Messiahbound to suffer in this way before entering upon his glory?’ (24.26). This first use of the ‘Messiah’ title on the lips of Jesus makesthe sentence significant. It explains that the exaltation of Jesusdepends on his passion. Jesus says that it is only through this thathe can truly be perceived as Christ. The disciples had contrastedhis suffering with their hopes for liberation. Jesus says that hisstatus depends on that suffering. The sub-text of this statement isthat the liberation of Israel has not been thwarted, as theysuppose, but that it derives from a different understanding ofevents in which the cross plays a crucial role. This is principallywhere the narrator differs from Jesus (and the author) in theGospel. Like the Emmaus disciples, he does not fully understandthe need for Jesus’ suffering or the implications which this has forcontemporary Christianity.

There is thus a tremendous irony—by no means obvious at thebeginning of the Gospel—in the (unreliable) narrator’s claim topass on reliable information to Theophilus.36 The narratorhimself, as the representative of the Christian community, is therecipient of Jesus’ ironic criticism in 13.23–30 where he is told:‘Then you will protest, “We used to eat and drink with you [cf. 22.17–20], and you taught in our streets.” But he will repeat, “I tellyou, I do not know where you come from. Out of my sight, all ofyou, you and your wicked ways.” …Some who are now last willbe first, and some who are first will be last.’ That the title ‘Lord’ isused in this passage means that it is addressed primarily to theChristian community (and not, say, to the narrative opponents ofJesus like the Jews). It implies that there are some in thatcommunity who have not grasped the need for humility and whoneed reminding that only the humble path of suffering and servicewhich Jesus exemplifies is truly the one of Christian discipleship.There is a further reminder in the Last Supper where Jesus speaksabout his ‘appointed way’ (22.22)—which the readers have alreadybeen told is the way of suffering and rejection (9.22)—and adispute begins among the disciples as to which of them is thegreatest. Jesus replies: ‘The greatest among you must bear himselflike the youngest, the one who rules like one who serves…. I amamong you like a servant’ (22.26–7). The fact that Jesus is thespeaker makes the words reliable. Here he speaks directly to theChristian community and warns them against the desire for


prestige and precedence which was evidently a major temptationthere.

There are a variety of situations to which such a perspectivecould have been addressed. Dawsey lists some possibilities:‘Through the narrator, a proud church might have relived its owntendency to exalt Jesus, and therefore its denial of the suffering Sonof God. Through the narrator, a socially insensitive communitymight have experienced its own blindness in perceiving the presentkingdom’.37 We should add the possibility that the emergence of amore institutional form of Christianity in the late first century,which is documented by the Didache and Ignatius and criticized bythe Ascension of Isaiah, could also have been responsible for thiscall for a radical and Christ-centred humility in which the leadersare reminded that they are appointed to serve and not to rule.Luke does not allow us to be precise about the nature of thesituation. Such imprecision is a feature of the way in which itoperates. The dissonance between Jesus and the narrator can infact apply to a variety of situations as readers insert their self-awareness into the story. The narrator’s misunderstandings drawthem into the narrative, make them interact with it, and help themto take a meaning from it. The perceptive reader will see that Jesusis criticizing the narrator and his friends and no doubt make anappropriate deduction from that observation.

THE PLOT

An essential part of a narrative is its plot. A plot is the outline orframework of events that happen in the story. It is, we might say,the ‘what’ of the narrative. All the Gospels have plots. Thisdistinguishes them from the New Testament letters which are notnarratives. A plot often employs the device of ‘cause and effect’(explaining why the events happen as they do). In the Gospels, this‘cause and effect’ concerns the reason for the death of Jesus whichis presented variously in terms of the will of God, the climax ofeschatology, the hostility of the Jews, the involvement of theRomans and the general need for suffering. Not all plots have a‘happy ending’—tragedies, for instance, do not—but there is atleast a sense that conflict is resolved in many if not most plots.One might almost say that conflict is an essential feature of plotgiven that human emotions and relationships are involved in it.


Plot is bound up with characterization as the different charactersinteract with each other against the backcloth of external events.

Luke’s plot is on the face of it a simple one but this simplicity isdeceptive as we have seen in the case of the narrator. The Gospeltells the story of Jesus from before his birth to his death. Itconcludes with his resurrection appearances and ascension.Interwoven with this material is the sense of eschatologicalanticipation and purpose which is symbolized by Jesus’ journeyfrom Galilee to Jerusalem. This means that the plot functions onmore than one level. On a simple level, we have the story of Jesusas he journeys to Jerusalem to be rejected and killed by hiscontemporaries. On another level, Jesus is drawn towardsJerusalem by the belief that the kingdom of God (and all this meantin terms of the biblical promises to Israel) will soon be fullyrealized. Thirdly, Luke is engaged in the business of reinterpretingeschatology through the mouthpiece of his narrator to allow forthe continuing existence of Christianity after the ascension andbefore the final manifestation of the Kingdom. Fourthly, the plothas a future aspect in its assertion that Jesus will return as Son ofMan from heaven. This makes the readers heirs of the sameeschatological hopes that motivate the characters in the Gospel.

The basic story of Jesus is common to all four Gospels (theascension apart), but the Gospels are different texts and their plotsare not identical. Luke’s plot has some distinctive features. HisPreface speaks of ‘the events that have been fulfilled among us’ (1.1) and of those things in which Theophilus has been instructed (1.4). The first phrase implies that Luke’s story is not a disinterestedbiography but incorporates both theological and eschatologicalreflection. The verb ‘instructed’ indicates that this materialconstitutes a form of tradition which was handed on to newChristians and derived from the ‘eyewitnesses and servants of thegospel’ (1.2). It gives Luke’s plot the purpose of supplyinginformation about the present orientation of Christianity and ofemphasizing the reliability of what was believed about Jesus(including the hope for his return from heaven). Only in Luke isthis purpose formally articulated at the beginning of the text.Luke’s Preface might be compared with the statement of John 20.31: ‘these (things) are written so that you may come to believe thatJesus is the Messiah’ (NRSV). For ‘Messiah’ in John read ‘Lord’and ‘Christ’ in Luke (cf. Acts 2.36).


Luke ends with a description of the ascension of Jesus (24.50–1). This too is unique among the Gospels. For Luke, the ascensionis the confirmation that Jesus is Christ and Lord following theGospel’s dénouement on the road to Emmaus (24.26). It has asymbolic relevance for those who have not seen the risen Jesus. Forthe original Christians, with their tradition of apocalypticrevelation (notably the resurrection appearances), the appearanceof the risen Jesus had been a significant thing. Later readers lackedthis advantage. They had only the reports about Jesus, the oraltradition of his sayings, the written Gospels and the (probablyquite enigmatic) experience of encountering Jesus in worship. Theascension reminds them that the heavenly Lord is the same Jesuswho had suffered. This is a major theme in the Gospel. Theascension tells readers that the exaltation cannot be believedwithout the suffering, and vice versa.

The basis of Luke’s plot is the rejection of Jesus the Messiah bythe Jewish people and the promise that, despite this, he will stillbring in the kingdom of God (see 9.26; 21.27–31). The plot in thissense has a wide orientation. Its background is not just the birth ofJesus (the point where the Gospel begins) but the whole history ofIsrael conceived as the prelude to the messianic age. The rejectionof Jesus in Luke is nothing short of a tragedy as the frequent ironyindicates. This tragedy is exemplified especially in the parable ofthe vineyard (20.9–16) which presents the ministry of Jesus as God’seschatological challenge to the nation (and I think to the temple)which the authorities misunderstand and reject. The basis of thetragedy is that the one who would bring restoration and wholeness(see especially 13.34–5) is denounced by the authorities as amessianic pretender whose claims are subversive (23.2). Thereis however a strong note of reversal in the resurrection andascension narratives (notably in 24.26) where it is said that thesuffering is a necessary part of the eschatological task. The plotthus has an ironic logic whose basis is the Jewish rejection of theMessiah and the complex set of paradoxes which emerge fromthis.

Since Luke’s plot is the substance of the narrative, and ought notto be considered merely in terms of theology, it is worth spendinga little time on what Luke says and on the essential elements of theplot. Readers who find this exposition irritating can jump toChapter 3; but I hope that at some point they will return toconsider my understanding of Luke in microcosm.


I begin with the death of Jesus to which the plot works forward.The reasons for Jesus’ death in Luke needs careful statement.There is more than one level of understanding in the text. Jesussometimes predicts his own suffering, in places with great accuracy.9.22 is an early example: ‘The Son of Man has to endure greatsufferings, and to be rejected by the elders, chief priests, andscribes, to be put to death, and to be raised again on the thirdday’. The reason for the ‘has to’ is not given but it is perhapssuggested by the ‘Son of Man’ title. This is because Jesus will onlybecome Christ by enduring the cross which is the pattern ofdiscipleship Luke impresses on his readers.

The narrator, as we have seen, takes a different view of Jesus’death. He refers it to the demands of scriptural necessity (24.27)—and in places Jesus himself seems to take this view as well (see 18.31). The narrator keeps his silence about the suffering of Jesus anddoes not apparently understand the first reason for his death.

The structure of the story suggests a third reason for the deathof Jesus. This concerns his attitude towards the temple. Prior toJesus’ arrival in Jerusalem, his opponents are confused (13.17) butnot overtly hostile. It is only after the cleansing of the temple (19.45–6) that we read: ‘the chief priests and scribes, with the supportof the leading citizens, wanted to bring about his death’ (19.47).The cleansing (and the teaching in the temple associated with it)gives Jesus a new status in the eyes of his opponents. From then on,they seek to kill him (see especially 20.19).

This observation means that we must investigate the templestrand in the Gospel with some care. And, in doing this, we mustask whose perspective we can trust on the matter. We have seenthat the narrator is an unreliable figure who diverges from theviews of the author (and of Jesus). But is Jesus any more reliable?The struc ture of the story indicates that the journey to Jerusalemis bound up with Jesus’ concern for the temple. But Jesus never says:The Son of Man is going to Jerusalem to purify the temple’ or ‘todo something that will cause a rumpus in the temple and therebybring about his death’. He always says (and I paraphrase): ‘TheSon of Man is going to Jerusalem to suffer and to die.’ There is, ofcourse, nothing exceptional in the fact that Jesus does not offer acommentary on the story. That, after all, is the narrator’s job. Yetthere is a sense of unease in the fact that the story places thetemple in the centre of the stage but that Jesus never makes a clearstatement about the role of the temple in connection with his


ministry. We must conclude from this, either that the structure ofthe story disagrees with the way that Jesus sees things (a viewwhich we have rejected already), or else that there is more to thewords of Jesus than at first sight meets the eye. A littleinvestigation shows that the second alternative is the better one.

The Infancy Narrative tells the reader that the temple is going tobe an important theme in the Gospel. In a sense, the InfancyNarrative offers a microcosm of the plot. It describes two journeysof Jesus to the temple before his ministry begins. His first recordedexpedition is in 2.22–4. This is as a babe for purification. Whathappens on his arrival sets the conditions for the plot. Jesus isgreeted by Simeon who states that God has finally revealed ‘thedeliverance’ which he had made ready in view of the nations (2.30–1); and by Anna, who ‘talked about the child to all who werelooking for the liberation of Jerusalem’ (2.38). Simeon is also saidto have ‘watched and waited for the restoration of Israel’ (2.25). Hecalls ‘the deliverance’ he had witnessed ‘a light that will bringrevelation to the Gentiles and glory to [God’s] people Israel’ (2.32).

This is a clear textual indication that Jesus’ appearance in thetemple has eschatological implications. Simeon’s hymn recallsIsaiah 60.3 (‘nations will journey towards your light’) which wasan important theme in Jewish eschatological speculation (seebelow). The references to ‘restoration’ and ‘liberation’ imply thatsome form of change is impending. Given that 2.11 makes Jesusthe Messiah, the reader rightly concludes that the arrival of Jesusin the temple means the messianic age is nigh.

A short narrative link (2.39–40) separates this visit from Jesus’second journey to Jerusalem. In 2.41–52 Joseph and the familyhead for Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. On the way homeJesus gets lost and is found eventually in the temple. This anecdoteis included (exceptionally in the Gospels) because it shows thatJesus is inextricably connected with the temple (and also becauseby implication it criticizes those who do not associate him with thetemple). Jesus’ parents trawl Jerusalem for three days beforesearching in the holy building. It was clearly the last place they hadthought of looking. They find Jesus astonishing the teachers with hislearning (2.46–7) much as he will later offend them with his words(19.47). The incident climaxes with his rebuke: ‘Did you not knowthat I was bound to be in my Father’s house?’ (2.49). These wordshave an ominous ring. They express the sense of purpose which


impels Jesus to the temple. When he goes there again, it will lead tohis death (19.45–7).

I want to pause at this point to explore the reason for Luke’sinterest in the temple and to suggest that Luke reflects the Jewishbelief that the temple is the focus of eschatological hope. We findevidence for this belief in a variety of Jewish literature.38 Severalpassages anticipate the renewal of the temple by God in theeschatological age. Isaiah 60.1–14 links the coming of the Gentilesto Israel’s light (cf. Luke 2.32) with the glorification of ‘my holysanctuary’. Isaiah 56.1–8 anticipates the regathering of the‘outcasts of Israel’ (cf. Luke 13.34) and the purity of sacrifice atthat time, ‘for my house will be called a house of prayer for allnations’ (Isaiah 56:7). According to Micah 4, the ‘mountain of theLord’s house’ will be made the highest mountain where manynations will come to learn the law. This eschatological interest iscontinued in post-biblical literature. The theme of the rebuildingor replacement of the temple is introduced there. Tobit 14.5 saysthat ‘the house of God will be rebuilt [in Jerusalem] with aglorious building for all generations for ever’. In 1 Enoch theauthor states that ‘the Lord of the sheep brought a new housegreater and loftier than the first, and set it in place of the first’ (90.29; cf. 91.13). Jubilees 1.15–17 predicts that national repentancewill be accompanied by the construction of God’s sanctuary inIsrael. This expectation is found also in the Psalms of Solomon (17.32). It extended to the Qumran community, to judge from 4QpPsalms 37 3.11: ‘They shall possess the High Mountain of Israel[for ever], and shall enjoy [everlasting] delights in His Sanctuary’(cf. 11QTemple 29.8–10).

This complex of passages, which represents the hopes of manycenturies, expects that in the eschatological age a renewed or evena replacement temple will emerge through the intervention ofGod.

We should not obscure the different forms in which this hope isfound, but nor should we minimize its significance in this literaturecited. An equal number of passages mention the hope for thereconstitution of the Israelite tribes at this time.39 Isaiah 49.5 is anexample: ‘The Lord has formed me in the womb to be his servant,to bring Jacob back to him that Israel should be gathered to him.’In the post-biblical writings, there is relevant material in Ben Sira48.10 (Elijah will ‘restore the tribes of Jacob’); the Psalms ofSolomon (chapters 11 and 17); and 1QM (where the heads of the


tribes offer twelve loaves of bread). Again, we must not bedogmatic about the form of this future hope, which varies acrossthe literature. Nevertheless, the hope that God will restore thetribes of Israel, which is tantamount to the hope that he willrestore the fortunes of Israel, is a prominent theme of Jewishliterature and reflects its concern for the land. Jewish messianism,as Klausner observes, has ‘earthly ground…under its feet’.40

Such material shows why the temple occupies a prominentposition in Luke’s plot. My reading of the Gospel sees Jesus assupposing that God will replace the temple with a heavenly oreschatological counterpart of which he is the chief corner-stone.The theme of the new temple is introduced allusively at first andone can only see it on a complete reading of the Gospel. But theevidence for it is, I think, striking. The replacement of the presenttemple at the climax of the ages is a major theme of Luke’s plot. Itmust be considered in company with the belief that the tribes ofIsrael will be restored under the Messiahship of Jesus and thepresidency of the twelve disciples.

This reading of the Gospel depends on several passages. Icontinue with two incidents in the first half of the Gospel. The firstis the temptation of Jesus. Luke reverses Matthew’s order to makethe temptation for Jesus to throw himself from the parapet of thetemple the last in the series and by implication the most significant(4.9–11). The devil insinuates that, if Jesus does this, the angelswill catch him and he will make a spectacular demonstration todraw attention to himself as the Son of God. By such a ruse, it isimplied, the kingdom of God will be visibly revealed. The locationof this temptation in the temple is highly significant given whatwill be said later about Jesus in 20.17. It tempts Jesus to revealhimself as Messiah (the devil, like the demons, knows the truthabout him) by forcing God’s hand and thus for theeschatological age to be introduced at his own behest—before thepassion and without the suffering which is a crucial theme inLuke.

The next reference to the temple is in 6.1–5. This story justifiesthe behaviour of the disciples in rubbing ears of corn on thesabbath by citing David’s example in eating shewbread from thetemple. The story is set ostensibly in the context of a sabbatariandispute (cf. the subsequent story in 6.6–11) but it is obvious thatits focus is wider than the sabbath. The David analogy is not in factabout the sabbath at all but about the temple. The logic of the


story is that the disciples break one Jewish rule; Jesus justifies theirbehaviour by saying that David’s men broke another. The focus ofthe comparison is that Jesus’ status as Messiah gives him a similar(indeed a greater) authority over Jewish institutions, including thesabbath and the temple. Jesus here apparently cites David’sbehaviour as a messianic visitation of the temple by which itsnormal rules of operation are suspended. This prepares the wayfor chapter 19 where he, too, will do something exceptional in thetemple. The passage provides a preliminary justification for that actby referring to the deeds of the prototypical Messiah.

We turn now to 13.34–5. I hold this passage absolutely centralto the Gospel and think that it gives the meaning of the plot: ‘OJerusalem, Jerusalem, city that murders the prophets and stonesthe messengers sent to her! How often have I longed to gatheryour children, as a hen gathers her brood under her wings; but youwould not let me…. Look! There is your temple, forsaken by God.I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when you say,“Blessings on him who comes in the name of the Lord!”’

It is important at this point to note that the Revised EnglishBible provides an interpretative translation of 13.35 (as do severalEnglish translations of this passage). My view is that its emphasison the divine element in the ‘forsaking’ is the correct one but itwill be helpful briefly to compare another translation so that wecan be sure about the precise nuances of the verse. My own (veryliteral) translation is: ‘Behold, your house is left to you.’ The verb‘left to you’ is intransitive but in fact there can only be one referentfor the ‘forsaking’. This is that the temple has been forsaken byGod. The passive is a ‘divine’ one. For this reason Jesus calls it‘your house’, whereas in Judaism the temple was universallyknown as the house of God. The force of 13.35 is that the(present) temple is pronounced by Jesus devoid of the divinepresence.

This reading of the verse needs further justification. Let meconsider an alternative reading. One of the characteristics of Jesusin Luke is that, from the standpoint of the readers, he foretells thedestruction of Jerusalem which was effected by the Romans in 70CE. In 21.20 he says: ‘when you see Jerusalem surrounded byarmies, then you may be sure that her devastation is near’. There isanother prediction of Jerusalem’s downfall in 19.43–4 (‘yourenemies will set up siege-works against you’). Several scholars see asimilar reference in 13.35. Three objections, however, must be


considered before that interpretation is accepted. First of all, thewording of the passage suggests a different understanding of 13.35.Jesus does not say that the temple will be destroyed by the Romans(a future event from his point of view) but that it has already beenforsaken and evidently by God (a past action with a differentagent). Secondly, 21.20 rather obviously predicts the Romandestruction of Jerusalem but this passage says nothing specificabout the destruction of the temple (cf. the silence of 19.43–4 onthis matter). This is a most significant silence given that Jewishsacrificial worship ceased in 70 CE and that the destruction of thetemple was regarded by Judaism as the worst part of thecatastrophe. We should surely have expected some such indicationin 13.35 if this is the real meaning of the verse. Thirdly,chapter 21 distinguishes the down-fall of the temple (21.6) from thedestruction of Jerusalem (21.20) which, in the logic of the passage,is said to precede the event specified by 21.6 (see below). This makesit difficult to identify the destruction of the temple (the result of itsforsaking by God) with the Roman destruction of Jerusalem.

The meaning of 13.35 can be explained with reference to theJewish literature just considered. This is that Jesus denounces thepresent temple in the hope of its eschatological renewal orreplacement by God. Jesus does not say why the temple needsrestoration, nor how this would be done, but there is the unspokenassumption in the Gospel that it does need to be replaced orpurified for the eschatological age. This interpretation is supportedby the cleansing of the temple in 19.45–6 which has been seen bothas a symbol of its future purity and also as a symbol of impendingdestruction (see below). The view that the present temple is defiledis in fact a feature of sectarian Judaism. The Qumran communityadvocated this view and thought that true worship was no longeroffered there (see CD 5.6–7; 1QpHab 12.7–9). A similarunderstanding of defilement is found in 1 Enoch 89.73.

The question of whether this view was held by the historicalJesus (although an interesting one) does not detain us here becausewe are concerned with an assessment of Jesus the Lucan character.Clearly, the statement is hyperbolic, as befits the language ofprophecy. But it is nevertheless very firmly made. The second halfof the verse gives the reason for it. Jesus says that the next timethat Jerusalem sees him will be when its inhabitants exclaim,‘Blessings on him who comes in the name of the Lord!’ Thisphrase, which derives from the Psalter, was used by pilgrims as


they went up to Jerusalem for religious festivals. It here anticipatesJesus’ (so-called) triumphal entry into Jerusalem when the wordsare used again (19.38). In both passages the benediction haschristological significance. It designates Jesus as ‘the one whocomes in the name of the Lord’. This presents him as Messiah(especially in 19.38 which adds the words ‘comes as king’ to thePsalm citation). The acclamation makes Jesus’ journey to the city amessianic visitation. The God-forsaking of the temple is thusconnected with the Messiah’s arrival in Jerusalem, whatever mightbe meant by this assertion.

A further statement of interest is made before 13.35. 13.34 picksup the Jewish belief that the tribes of Israel will be restored in theeschatological age: ‘O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, city that murders theprophets and stones the messengers sent to her! How often have Ilonged to gather your children, as a hen gathers her brood underher wings; but you would not let me.’ Jesus complains thatJerusalem rejects all God’s messengers and spurns his attempt togather ‘her brood’. The brood are surely the twelve tribes whichhad been scattered abroad. The thought is that Jesus would gatherthem together under his rule as Messiah. This implies that therestoration of the twelve tribes is also on the agenda of Luke’s Jesus(cf. 22–30).

For this reason the sense of anticipation grows as Jesus nears theJewish capital. In 19.11–27, just before Jesus sets out on the ascentto Jerusalem (19.28), he tells the parable of the absent king. Thisqualifies the sense of drama in chapter 13 by warning that thekingdom of God will not appear when Jesus reaches Jerusalem.The narrator says that: ‘he was now close to Jerusalem and theythought the kingdom of God might dawn at any moment’ (19.11).The parable which follows concerns delay and expectation. It tellsthe story of how a nobleman goes on a long journey (19.12) butfinally ‘return[s] as king’ (19.15) to effect an act of judgment. Thesub-text of the parable, introduced by 19.11, is that the emergenceof the kingdom is connected with the Messiah’s arrival inJerusalem but that there will be a period of waiting before this isfulfilled. This suggests that there is perhaps a deliberate ambiguityin 13.35b where Jesus refers to his future greeting by theinhabitants of Jerusalem. That verse anticipates, not just histriumphal entry which is accomplished in chapter 19 of theGospel, but also the second coming of the Son of Man forjudgment (9.26), which lies beyond the pages of the Gospel.


In 19.28–40 Jesus comes to Jerusalem. He enters the city in 19.45 and goes immediately to the temple. Jesus drives out the traderswith the words:’ “My house shall be a house of prayer”; but youhave made it a bandits’ cave’ (19.46). The saying in 19.46 is madeup of two scriptural allusions: to Isaiah 56.7 (‘my house will becalled a house of prayer for all nations’) and Jeremiah 7.11 (‘Doyou regard this house which bears my name as a bandits’ cave?’).In both cases we should assume that the allusion is to the contextin which these words are found and not narrowly to the wordsthemselves. The context of the Isaiah citation gives the cleansing aneschatological reference: Isaiah anticipates that the Gentiles will beincluded in the final act of salvation when acceptable sacrificeswould be offered in the temple. This agrees with what Luke saysabout the inclusion of the Gentiles in the Nunc Dimittis (2.32) andelsewhere. The Jeremiah citation (Jeremiah 7.8–11) criticizes thosewho think they are safe in the temple when they commit heinousoffences. Jeremiah’s thrust is that the slogan, ‘This place is thetemple of the Lord’ (Jeremiah 7.4), is a lie for that reason. ForLuke, who cites Jeremiah, the words indicate that the present templeis the subject of an over-optimistic confidence from people whorefuse to accept the ethical consequences of worship. Jeremiahadds to Isaiah the veiled hint that the temple may be over-runwhich I think looks back to 13.35 and is also reflected in whatJesus does in the temple on this occasion.

Much has been written about the cleansing of the temple, both asthe deed was done by the historical Jesus and as part of the storywhich the Gospels tell.41 My reading of Luke tends towards theconclusion that it is an ambiguous event whose meaning must beconstructed by the reader from the text. In the light of 13.35 theimplication is that the cleansing demonstrates the God-forsakenness of the present temple. But, as yet, the reader lackssufficient information to place a definitive meaning on thisinformation. Several possible interpretations arise. Is Jesuscleansing the temple by driving out the money-grabbing traders? Ishe symbolizing the repristinization of the present temple by brieflyinterrupting the sacrificial worship? Or does he anticipate thereplacement of the temple by God in the eschatological age? Anyor all of these interpretations can be deduced from the text so far.Luke has yet to provide sufficient information to let the readerdecide between these possibilities.


Further (and I think decisive) information about the plot isprovided by 19.47–8 and especially by chapters 20–1. 19.47makes two significant statements. The first is that ‘day by day[Jesus] taught in the temple’. The second is that ‘the chief priestsand scribes, with the support of the leading citizens, wanted tobring about his death’. This verse indicates that Jesus is condemnedbecause of his teaching in the temple as much as for his behaviourin the temple. Luke tells us what Jesus taught in chapter 20. Thechapter records a series of disputes about his status and authority.The most important element is the parable of the vineyard and itsinterpretation in 20.9–18. This parable has the form of anallegory. There has been no shortage of allegorical interpretationsof it. The most common interpretation takes the owner as God, thevineyard as Israel, the messengers as the prophets, the Son as Jesusand the new tenants as the Gentiles. There is, however, a differentinterpretation which makes better sense of the context by referringthe vineyard to the temple. This interpretation was proposed byLohmeyer.42 It circumvents the problems of the otherinterpretation by explaining why the tenants think they will gainthe vineyard by abusing the messengers (for the tenants are theJewish authorities who are removing a threat to their security). Onthis reading the messengers are indeed the prophets. They includeJeremiah who spoke against the temple (Jeremiah chapter 7) as theparable implies. The final messenger is the ‘beloved Son’ (20.13).The tenants decide to kill the Son when they had (merely)mistreated the other messengers because he has threatened thetemple in his teaching and behaviour. The tenants want to removesomeone who has disturbed their confidence in the holy place.This interpretation of the parable is strongly implied by itsconclusion: ‘The scribes and chief priests wanted to seize him thereand then, for they saw that this parable was aimed at them’ (20.19) which links back directly to 19.47 and the statement that theleaders wanted Jesus dead. There is, of course, a considerable ironyin this, for 19–46 has already indicated that the Son’s intention isthe eschatological restoration of the temple and not its destructionin a negative sense. But this is lost on the other characters who, aschapter 8 says, see and hear what Jesus does and says butstrikingly fail to understand it.

The parable of the vineyard is appended by commentary fromJesus in the form of a scriptural citation: ‘The stone which thebuilders rejected has become the main corner-stone…. Everyone


who falls on that stone will be dashed to pieces; anyone on whomit falls will be crushed’ (20.17–18). If the parable concerns thetemple, it is natural that the language should turn to stones. Thesource for the first half of this citation is Psalm 118.22 to whichLuke has appended some words based on Isaiah 8.14–15 about theLord of hosts: ‘He will become a snare, an obstacle, and a rockagainst which the two houses of Israel will strike and stumble….Many will stumble and fall and suffer injury.’ The words as theystand refer to Jesus, but Luke again does not indicate the precisesense in which they should be understood. Here, too, the readermust exercise imagination in interpretation. The citation seemsalmost deliberately intended to make them ponder what it means.Unless Jesus is speaking entirely in a metaphor, the reference mustbe to a building. It is not said for which building Jesus is thecorner-stone but the context of the parable throws up the strongpossibility that it is the temple. The temple in question cannot bethe present temple, which was standing when the historical Jesusspoke but was destroyed before the writing of the Gospel. Theimplication is that Jesus is thinking of the heavenly oreschatological temple and that he is presenting himself as the mainpart of that temple which has yet to be fully revealed. This makesfor a contrast between the present temple, rejected by God (13.35)and the heavenly temple whose key feature is Jesus, the stonerejected by the Jews (cf. 2.35).

Chapter 21 develops this picture by explaining clearly the fate ofthe present temple. ‘Some people were talking about the templeand the beauty of its fine stones and ornaments’ (21.5). Jesuswarns them that ‘the time will come when not one stone will beleft upon another; they will all be thrown down’ (21.6). Myreading of the plot devotes careful attention to the progress ofthought in Chapter 21. The chapter is introduced by this statementabout the temple which is made the cue for the disciples to ask:‘When will that be? What will be the sign that these things areabout to happen?’ (21.7). It follows from this that the bulk of thematerial in Chapter 21 is devoted to the explication of the signs ofthe end. These signs precede the destruction of the temple which ismentioned by 21.6. Looking through the chapter we can see thatthe eschatological climax is described in 21.27: ‘Then they will seethe Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory’. The‘then’ at the beginning of 21.27 indicates that the eschatological‘signs’ have at last been completed as the Son of Man appears. The


whole of 21.8–26 describes the sequence of signs which precedesthis climax. These include the Roman destruction of Jerusalem in21.20–4. The fact that 21.20–4 occurs within the context of the‘signs’ means that it is formally distinguished from the destructionof the temple in 21.6. 21.6 is by contrast connected with 21.27 asan indication of what will happen at the eschatological climax.The chapter associates the coming of the Son of Man (21.27) withthe collapse of the (present) temple (21.6) for the reason I havediscerned in 20.17. This is that the appearance of theeschatological temple makes the present temple redundant. In thischapter Luke sees the Roman destruction of Jerusalem as thedivinely-instituted punishment of the Jews which is completedbefore the new and perfect temple makes its appearance in the holycity.

This view of the matter draws us back to the cleansing of thetemple in 19.45–6. Whatever Jesus does on that occasion, it isdifficult to believe that the event is unconnected with theeschatological information supplied by 13.35, 20.17 and 21.6. Thecleansing anticipates the appearance of the eschatological templeand is significant for the fact that it is undertaken by the corner-stone of the eschatological temple. Jesus not only anticipates thetrue purpose of the temple but he embodies the future of thetemple which his death and return from heaven will disclose.

The theme of eschatological restoration recurs in 22.30. Jesustells his disciples: ‘in my kingdom you shall eat and drink at mytable and sit on thrones as judges of the twelve tribes of Israel.’The notion of judgment reflects the belief that the Son of Man isthe eschatological judge (9.26). The Twelve assist him in his work.Their number reflects the number of the tribes of Israel. Theimplication is that the Twelve are tribal presidents of the restoredIsrael who will assist the Messiah when the kingdom comes.

At the moment of the death of Jesus, the curtain of the temple istorn in two (23.45). This is a further symbol of destruction whichlinks the promise of the heavenly temple with the death of Jesus.The final verse of Luke contains another reference to the temple.After the ascension the disciples ‘returned to Jerusalem full of joy,and spent all their time in the temple praising God’ (24.52–3).As in Acts, they go to the temple because the temple is expected tobe the focus of the eschatological climax.

Stephen’s speech (Acts chapter 7) confirms that Luke has an eyeto the eschatological temple when it criticizes the present building


on the grounds that (like its predecessors) it is made by humanbeings and therefore far from adequate for its purposes: ‘The MostHigh does not live in houses made by men; as the prophet says,“Heaven is my throne and earth my footstool. What kind of housewill you build for me, says the Lord; where shall my resting-placebe? Are not all these things of my own making?”’ (Acts 7.48–50).Stephen’s speech is an expansion of Luke 13.35 and develops theview that God has forsaken the present temple. There is perhapsthe hint in Acts 7.50 (‘are not all these things of my own making?’)that God will make his own temple which I think reflects thethought of Luke 20.17.

Luke’s plot is thus based around the theme of eschatology inwhich the replacement of the temple by God is a crucial motif. Themotif may be submerged at first but it emerges more clearly as theGospel unfolds. What Luke does not tell us is what it means forJesus to be the corner-stone of the eschatological temple and whatthat temple will be like. But he does say enough to indicate that thetemple occupies a large place in his eschatological hopes and thatit is related to the person of Jesus. He expects the climax of theages to bring to completion the events that are inaugurated in theministry of Jesus.

CHARACTERIZATION

Characterization is a further feature of narrative. It goes withoutsaying that an ancient Christian Gospel does not have the detail orstyle of characterization, say, of the classic English novel. Luke isnot a writer like Dickens or Austen whose concern is with thefullblown development of his characters. Luke hardly develops hischaracters at all. He introduces one major character, Jesus. Whatis said about Jesus is far from complete, particularly in areas likehis emotional life and what he did before his ministry. Lukeintroduces a fair variety of other characters. They includedisciples, women and Jews of different kinds. Most are stock orrepresentative figures who highlight the onset of the kingdom ofGod as it is manifested in the ministry of Jesus.

The function of these other characters, including the Twelve,is to engage with Jesus and let him produce a response, either inword or deed; and to chart their (often quite enigmatic) responsesto Jesus. In this sense the plot controls the characterization and notthe other way round. One should always remember that God is the


unseen and most important character in the Gospel. His purposesare invincible and his promises to Israel, it is implied, secure. ThatGod is bringing in the kingdom through the person of his Son isthe message which Luke conveys.

JESUS AS A CHARACTER

Luke’s characterization of Jesus is based on the Gospels ofMatthew and Mark. Luke chooses not to alter the substance of theirportraits but he does change some of the narrative and he edits thewords of Jesus. We are thus not dealing with a character calledJesus created de novo but with a narrative where tradition plays adecisive role.

I start by observing that there is no ‘docetism’ in the Gospel.Docetism is the presentation of Jesus, as it were, with superhumanpowers. It was a second-century tendency which allowed thedivinity of Jesus to triumph over his humanity, initially forreverential reasons. Docetism has sometimes been detected in theFourth Gospel but even there the humanity of Jesus is not‘qualified’ as it is in other sources.43 None of the Gospels makesJesus evade his passion, as Basileides did, nor suggests that therewas anything unreal about his need for food after the manner ofValentinus.

In contrast to John, Luke has no ‘incarnational’ christology. Bythis I mean that he does not describe the descent of a heavenlybeing who appears as Jesus or becomes associated with Jesus.Luke’s christology is one in which Jesus becomes Messiah throughhis death on the cross (24.26). This is similar in many ways to thechristology of the hymn that Paul includes in Philippians 2.6–11.

Luke’s portrait of Jesus is a very ‘human’ one in which the beliefthat he is Lord does not reduce his credibility as a human being.Luke makes the reader infer belief in the virgin birth. He is lessexplicit on this point than Matthew (1.18–25). It is interesting thatLuke, who claims to have researched all things carefully (1.1–2),should write in this way. Luke also presents a credible portrait ofJesus’ anguish on the Mount of Olives (22.39–46).

Luke’s favourite description for Jesus after ‘Lord’ is ‘prophet’.Jesus himself uses this title (4.24; 13.33). There is perhaps adelib erate element of ambiguity concerning what kind of a prophetJesus is. Is he like Moses or Elijah, both or neither? There is asense in which ‘both and neither’ is the correct answer. Luke teases


with parallelism and lets his readers make their own deductions.Jesus as prophet does however provide an authoritativeinterpretation of the scriptures. This is clear from chapter 4 wherehe visits the synagogue in Nazareth and reads the scroll fromIsaiah 61 (‘The Spirit of the Lord is upon me…’). He tells thecongregation that ‘today this scripture has been fulfilled in yourhearing’ (4.21). In this context Isaiah 61 is understood as aprophecy about Jesus: he is the one to whom the prophet’s wordsapply, so that one prophet fulfils the words of another. Lukethinks that Jesus has realized Isaiah’s vision and that Joseph’s son(as he is called contemptuously in 4.22) is the prophet throughwhom Isaiah’s eschatological vision is being effected (4.24).

As this kind of prophet Jesus is possessed by the Spirit of God (4.18). This characterization is sustained throughout the Gospel, notleast in the implicit (but allusive) dialogue with other figures suchas Moses, Joshua and Elijah. It is particularly evident in themiracles. In Luke the miracles support the portrait of Jesus as theeschatological prophet because they are signs of the kingdom ofGod. The miracles make two points about Jesus. First of all, thedemons—in contrast to the ordinary people—know that he is ‘theHoly One of God’ (4.34) and ‘the Son of God’ (4.41). There is thesense—clearly an ironic one—in which such knowledge confirmsthat his power is greater than theirs. Secondly, the miracles leavethe bystanders in awe of Jesus: ‘with authority and power hecommands the unclean spirits, and out they come!’ (4.36, NRSV).This aura of power and yet uncertainty surrounds Jesusthroughout Luke and explains the different responses of peopletowards him.

Jesus is portrayed as the leader of a band of followers.Chapter 5 describes how he calls certain people. 6.13–16 says thatthese are twelve in number. The number twelve was not inventedby Luke but features throughout the Gospel tradition (the namesof the Twelve vary according to which list is consulted). Luke 22.30 (= Matthew 19.28) implies that in the eschatological age theTwelve will sit on thrones and judge the tribes of Israel. We haveseen that Jesus designates the tribal presidents of the restoredIsrael in advance of his impending death.

Jesus does not call himself ‘Messiah’ until after theresurrection (24.26). Prior to this, he uses ‘Son of Man’. Thehistory and precise meaning of this title has been the subject of aprotracted dispute in scholarly literature. ‘Son of Man’ clearly is a


title in Luke. It coheres and contrasts with ‘Messiah’ in the Gospel.‘Messiah’ is what Jesus says he is after the resurrection; ‘Son ofMan’ is what he calls himself beforehand. ‘Son of Man’ does notdeny that Jesus is Messiah before the resurrection. The readerknows that he is on the basis of 2.11. But it is a feature of Lukethat Jesus avoids ‘Christ’ until 24.26. This is why ‘Son of Man’features so often in the Gospel. The term denotes Jesus before hispassion. It is a special feature of his direct speech. ‘Son of Man’ inthis sense denotes Jesus in advance of his heavenly enthronement(22.69; cf. Acts 7.56) and no more excludes belief in his divinitythan does ‘Christ’.

In chapter 9 Jesus begins to talk seriously about his death. AfterPeter’s identification of him as Messiah (9.20) Jesus says that: ‘theSon of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by theelders, chief priests, and scribes, and be killed, and on the third daybe raised’ (9.22, NRSV). This thought is repeated later in thechapter: ‘the Son of Man is going to be betrayed into humanhands’ (9.44, NRSV). This second prediction is of interest becauseit is quite unspecific about the manner of Jesus’ death. It is possiblethat here Luke preserves the most primitive form of the passionpredictions that we can recover. This would suggest that he reallyhas made an attempt to unearth authentic material, as he claims inthe Preface.

There is sense of deliberateness about the way in which Jesussubmits to his destiny. Luke expresses this resolve in geographicalterms. After Jesus’ preaching in Galilee the narrator says that:‘when the days drew near for him to be taken up, [Jesus] set hisface to go to Jerusalem’ (9.51). ‘Taken up’ refers to the ascensionwhich Luke understands as heavenly exaltation (see Acts 2.36).The journey to Jerusalem, as Luke presents it, is not the final journeyof a man desperate to force God’s hand, which is what AlbertSchweitzer believed about the historical Jesus, but the self-conscious acceptance of a destiny in which Jesus knows andaccepts his impending death. This enables the portrait of hispassion as a willing submission to God’s will (cf. especially 22.42).It makes, it must be said, for a curious psychology in which Jesusappears as an utterly determined character.

The central section of the Gospel (chapters 10–19) has beencriticized for its narrative imprecision but it disclosesimportant teaching which is a crucial feature of Luke’scharacterization of Jesus. This teaching is addressed to Luke’s


readers. It calls them to ethical action and to eschatologicalvigilance. A feature of this teaching is the repeated command forLuke’s readers to follow Jesus’ own path of suffering and service.Some but not all of the teaching has an eschatological orientation.Examples are the passage about the ‘days of the Son of Man’ in 17.22–37, and almost the whole of chapter 21.

At the Last Supper Jesus pledges himself not to taste bread andwine until he tastes them new in the kingdom of God (22.16, 18).This links his death with the coming of the kingdom and makeshim say that he will preside over the kingdom’s inaugural banquet.Jesus also knows that his betrayer is present (22.21). This presentshim in control of the situation despite what the events suggest.

In 22.39–46—on the Mount of Olives—we find Jesus at hismost convincing as a character. He displays his fear of death in arealistic portrait, but yields to the will of God and goes to hispassion. It would have been unthinkable for Luke to present Jesusas having tried to evade it. Luke does however say that Jesus’decision is a hard one, even if the outcome is assured.

The arrest presents Jesus as again in control of the situation.One of the disciples cuts off the ear of the High Priest’s servant (22.50). Jesus touches the wound and it is healed instantly (22.51).Jesus’ perseverance under suffering is contrasted with Peter’sfickleness in 22.54–62, particularly in the crisp statement that ‘theLord turned and looked at Peter’ (22.61). The Jewish trial is asham which fails to find any convincing proof of guilt (22.66–71).Jesus refuses to say that he is the Messiah (22.67) but speaksinstead about the heavenly enthronement of the Son of Man (22.69). There is a substantial irony in the fact that at his trial, whenthe High Priest could have used his prerogative to identify Jesus asthe Messiah, Jesus’ true status is discussed by the Jewishauthorities who fail to recognize it. They identify Jesus as ‘the Sonof God’ (22.70) but ignore the implications of their identification.

In chapter 23 Jesus is brought before Pilate. Pilate is told thatJesus has subverted the nation, opposed the payment of taxes toCaesar and claimed to be Messiah, ‘a king’ (23.2). The readerknows that none of this is true for Jesus has carefully resisted thetitle ‘Messiah’ (see especially 9.20–2; 22.67) and he supports thepayment of taxes (20.19–26). Pilate asks whether Jesus is the kingof the Jews; Jesus replies that the words are his (23.3). Theirony again is that someone beyond Jesus’ circle should pronounceJesus Messiah but fail to appreciate the implication of this


identification. It is crucial for Luke’s characterization of Jesus thatin 23.4 Pilate announces: ‘I find no case for this man to answer.’None of the charges made by the Jews—especially the charges ofdisaffection and insurrection—are found to be proven. There is anapologetic aspect to this aspect of the characterization. The figureof Jesus serves to this extent as the ideal Christian whose testimonycannot be refuted (cf. 21.15) except by mob violence. Even Herod,the quisling king, is reported as finding no crime in Jesus, despite hismockery of him (23.15). Jesus is further pronounced innocent byone of his fellow victims (23.41); and then, after his death, by theRoman centurion (23.47).

The Gospel ends with the story of the resurrection. This iscrucial to the characterization. The narrator tells the reader whatto believe about the resurrection. In 24.3 people ‘did not find thebody of the Lord Jesus’. The angel visitors, with their supernaturalknowledge, give the reason for this in 24.5: ‘Why search amongthe dead for one who is alive?’ Jesus for Luke is not a dead herobut the living Lord whose heavenly presence dominates theGospel. The ascension shows in pictorial form that Jesus is waitingin heaven for the time of his return. He will soon return to earth tocarry out the judgment in the manner described by 9.26.

THE OTHER CHARACTERS

Luke mentions a variety of other characters besides Jesus. We havementioned God already. He is the one unseen character in thestory and, as Luke presents him, the veritable director of theaction. God chose Israel in ancient times and revealed his will in theHebrew Bible. He sends John the Baptist and identifies Jesus as hisSon at the Baptism. He introduces the plan of eschatologicalsalvation that is fulfilled through Jesus. Ultimately, he sanctionsthe crucifixion and brings good out of the tragedy. He raises Jesusfrom the dead and gives him his position as Lord in heaven. Godmust not be ignored even though he does not appear in person.

God’s demonic counterpart in Luke is Satan. Satan is the chiefdemon (also called Beelzebul) who organizes the opposition toJesus. His activity is discerned, not just in the temptation andpassion, but also in the numbers of sick people from whom Jesuscasts out demons. It is implied that Satan has a real power overpeople but Jesus says that this has been broken at the onset of thekingdom of God (10.18). Nevertheless, Satan is sufficiently alive


and well at the end of the story to inspire the betrayal of Jesus (22.3). We can see from Acts 5.3 and 26.18 that his activity is notfinished even at the end of the Gospel. His final removal awaits theeschatological judgment.

John the Baptist is the most prominent human character afterJesus in the Gospel. The Infancy Narrative presents him as asignificant figure and makes him herald the kingdom of God. Jesusidentifies John as the eschatological Elijah in 7.27. The narrator,however, makes John the herald of Jesus to include his ownreaders in the offer of salvation.

Jesus is accompanied by the Twelve and by unspecified otherdisciples. These are not quite ‘minor characters’ but their activitydoes little to affect the development of the plot. The disciplesinteract with Jesus. Their misunderstandings contrast with hisknowledge and resolve. It is implied that the Twelve will onlycome into their own after the story (and indeed the story in Acts)has finished. They are to be the tribal presidents of the renewedIsrael (22.30). In Acts they undergo substantial development. Theychange from being fearful half-believers to bold preachers of thetruth about Jesus. This contrast, which Luke assigns to theinfluence of the Holy Spirit, is an important difference between thetwo texts.

As the intimate followers of Jesus the disciples leave much to bedesired in their understanding of his mission. Simon Peter mayidentify Jesus as Messiah (9.20) but he denies him at the trial (22.54–62). No disciples are mentioned at the foot of the cross. They areas much prone to misunderstanding as the other characters. Thedisciples are told explicitly about the passion in Luke but they failto understand what they hear (9.44–5). One of the Twelve is eveninspired by Satan to inaugurate the events which lead to the deathof Jesus (22.3). This misunderstanding, which ties in with themisunderstanding that Luke assigns to the narrator, is one way inwhich the author challenges the readers to examine theirunderstanding of discipleship, to see how it conforms to thedesired pattern of suffering and service.

The Jewish religious authorities play an important role in thestory. They are distinguished by the narrator from ‘the people’but, at the height of the drama, it is said that even the people agreewith them that Jesus must be killed (23.13). There is a sensein which the distinction between ‘the leaders’ and the ‘people’ isthe only significant division of ‘the Jews’ which Luke makes. Luke


discriminates between different kinds of Jewish authorities in namealone. It is not certain that he really knew the precise distinctionsbetween them. We read in the Gospel of the Pharisees, theSadducees, the scribes, the lawyers, the teachers of the Law, thechief priests, the High Priest, the captains of the temple, the elders,and the rulers. These people are presented as the opponents ofJesus in a quite monochrome way. The Pharisees are sometimespresented in a redeeming light (e.g. 13.31; cf. the portrait of theJewish elders in 7.3); Luke’s criticism of them is by no means soharsh as Matthew’s.

Distinct from the Jewish authorities are ‘the people’. ‘Thepeople’ are essentially neutral towards Jesus in Luke. They do notshare the public commitment of the disciples, but neither do theyside with the religious authorities until chapter 23. At many points‘the people’ receive Jesus warmly, as they had received John. Luke7.29–30 makes a distinction between the people and the Phariseesin this respect. The people think that Jesus is a prophet (9.18–19)but they do not see him as Messiah and Lord, which for Luke arethe ultimate christological accolades. In Acts, ‘the people’ respondto the preaching about Jesus in large numbers (e.g. Acts 19.26).

There are quite a few ‘minor characters’ in Luke who react toJesus for good or for ill. Those who are well disposed towards himinclude Elizabeth, his mother Mary and the people who bring theparalytic on the stretcher (5.17–26). The Gospel mentions anumber of nearly anonymous people whom Jesus heals. They ofcourse are in favour of him, whenever their response is described(e.g. 17.16). Those who are opposed to Jesus include Herod andPilate. In the passion narrative, certain minor characters do whatthe disciples should have done: Simon of Cyrene carries the cross,and Joseph of Arimathea organizes Jesus’ burial. These charactershighlight the disciples’ lack of understanding and to this extent actas a foil for them. This again draws attention to the idealizingpresentation of discipleship in the Gospel.

These minor characters show how characterization operates inLuke. Luke’s interest in the characters is not with them asfascinating people, still less as characters whom he can develop, butwith the way in which they interact with Jesus as the centralcharacter. Even the disciples are rather wooden characters to thisextent. All the characters make a foil for Jesus. This leaves it openfor Jesus to speak authoritative truth which conveys the messagethat the readers hear.


NARRATIVE TIME IN LUKE

Luke’s Gospel operates on more than one time-scale. The mainpart of the text describes Jesus’ ministry in Galilee (of unspecifiedduration) and his journey to Jerusalem. The central section of theGospel, where diverse teaching is held together by loose narrativelinks, creates the impression of a relatively substantial preachingministry but with no exact indication of how long it lasted. It isfrom John’s Gospel that the traditional three-year scheme of Jesus’ministry is derived. By contrast, the trial and death of Jesus inLuke occupy quite a short time, being confined to a long weekend.This means that they occupy a disproportionately large part of theGospel so as to emphasize the importance of these events. Suchvariation in the Gospel’s time-rhythm brings a heightened sense ofdrama to the final chapters, appropriate to the narration of atragedy.

The main part of the Gospel describes the adult ministry of Jesusbut a wider time-scale is introduced by the Infancy Narrative. Thisdescribes the birth of Jesus. Its biblical allusions recollect the wholehistory of God’s dealings with Israel which, it is implied, reachesits climax with the coming of Jesus. Behind the story thus standsthe whole time-span of the Hebrew Bible from Adam onwards.

Luke also has an eye to secular chronology (3.1). The Gospeldoes not make much of this but nevertheless mentions it. Itreminds the reader that the significance of the story is not confinedto Palestine but affects the whole earth. This point is vividlydemonstrated when Paul comes to Rome at the end of Acts.

A fourth time-scale is provided by the distance between the storyand the readers. Acts describes some but not all of this period. Wehave seen to some extent that the readers’ situation is incorporatedin the Gospel, at least in terms of questions that the author wantsthem to ponder. This fourth time-scale is reflected in thedissonance between Jesus and the narrator. The narrator is acontemporary Christian who comments on the words of Jesus. Thepassage of time explains why he feels the need to reinterpret whatJesus says for a later generation. The fact that the author sides withJesus in the Gospel means that everything that Jesus says is held tobe true despite the passage of time. This is an important insight,not least for the study of Lucan eschatology.


THE SETTING OF LUKE

Luke operates within the geographical confines of Palestine. TheGospel describes Jesus’ initial ministry in the region of Galilee,followed by his journey to Jerusalem. Luke’s general imprecisionabout geography suggests that he is not familiar at first hand withthe region (see e.g. 5.17). His use of the ‘journey to Jerusalem’motif has a narrative function to which geography in the narrowsense is subordinated. ‘Jerusalem’ is the centre of the Jewish nationand the place where the prophets died and must die (13.33). Actscontinues the theme of journeying by describing how the chiefapostle comes to Rome. Paul’s arrival there parallels the arrival ofJesus in Jerusalem.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE GOSPEL

Luke as a Gospel takes its structure from the developing ministry ofJesus, first in Galilee and then in Jerusalem. The structure of theGospel is determined by its place in the two-volumed series. Thisimplies the belief that the Gospel is incomplete by itself and that theMessiah’s preaching and death in Jerusalem must be matched byPaul’s preaching (and presumed death) in Rome. Of all thestructural devices which the Gospel employs, geography is themost obvious. The career of Jesus involves suffering and death.This point is made in many places in the Gospel (e.g. 9.22), fromthe Infancy Narrative onwards (1.34–5). The journey to Jerusalemis thus a journey by Jesus to his death. This is explained in 13.33where the place-name ‘Jerusalem’ is held synonymous with the fateof those who preach the words of God. The device of geographicalprogress denotes the expansion of Jesus’ mission, but also hissequence of steps towards the cross.

Jerusalem is foregrounded because it is the centre of Jewisheschatological hope. Isaiah 2.3 illustrates the underlying belief:‘Many peoples shall come, and say: “Come, let us go up to themountain of the LORD, to the house of the God of Jacob; that hemay teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths.” Forout of Zion shall go forth the law, and the word of the LORDfrom Jerusalem’ (RSV translation). This prophecy makes Jerusalemthe centre of what God is expected to do in the future of the Jewishnation. Luke stands firmly in this tradition of hope, like the otherEvangelists. His Gospel describes how the Messiah comes to


Jerusalem—to fulfil what God had intended—and how he istragically rejected and crucified there. The Gospel neverthelesscontains the hint that Jesus will finally be acclaimed as Messiah inthe Jewish capital (13.35) when he returns there from heaven.

Christopher Evans thinks that the central section of the Gospelis modelled on the theme of Israel’s wilderness journey in the bookof Deuteronomy.44 He cites a variety of evidence for this viewwhich has a certain cumulative effect. The parallels include thesending out of the apostles (= spies) and the appointment ofseventy missionaries (= elders). We should, however, observe thatLuke is too subtle an author merely to imitate an existing theme.He plays around with it, not least in the temptation story, byexplaining that Jesus is both like but also unlike Moses (as otherfigures). Jesus differs particularly from Moses in that he is expectedto lead his people into the promised land—the kingdom of God—when he returns from heaven. In 16.18 Jesus intensifies a Mosaicregulation to make the point that he is a speaker of even greaterauthority. We should therefore bear Evans’ comparison in mindbut remember that Luke is unlikely to be using the Deuteronomyanalogy in a straightforward or literalistic way.

The Gospel is also structured round the theme of the fulfilmentof prophecy. The deliberate change from Attic to biblical Greekafter the Preface tells the reader that the Bible is an important textfor the plot. This expectation is not disappointed in what the Gospelsays. The birth of John recalls the birth of Samuel (as well as ofSamson). John is presented as the Elijah who has come (7.27). Thisraises the question of who Jesus is and where he stands in relationto the prophetic tradition. We have seen that Luke teases with thismotif. He appears to answer it in Acts by his reference to theprophet like Moses (Deuteronomy 18.15) in Acts 3.22 and else-where.

A major part of the plot is the demonstration that the biblicalhopes are being realized. This is indicated programmatically inchapter 4 where the prophecy of Isaiah 61 is held realized beforethe eyes of the synagogue congregation. This passage presentsJesus as the person who gives the scriptures their authoritativeinterpretation. That should be compared with the function of theTeacher of Righteousness in the Qumran Habakkuk Commentary.It is essentially an eschatological view.

The passion predictions are important structural elements inLuke. 9.22 says that: ‘the Son of Man has to endure great


sufferings…etc’. The basis of the ‘has to’ lies in the fact that God isthe unseen director of the plot. His will must be obeyed althoughhe himself remains unseen. Behind this statement stands a wholeJewish tradition in which the righteous suffer at the hands of theungodly. This is altogether broader than Deutero-Isaiah’s ‘servant’where that tradition is reflected (cf. 20.10–12). Jesus thereby alignshimself with a view in which the righteous suffer which he, as theprophet of the end-time, can hardly circumvent. The passionpredictions are of course a form of prophecy in themselves. Theystructure the narrative by explaining what will happen later and tothis extent provide more reliable information than the narrator,who suppresses the suffering of Jesus. Jesus both fulfils and makesprophecies in an authoritative way as the one whom God hasempowered for the eschatological task.

None of this information disguises the fact that the journey ofJesus from Galilee to Jerusalem is the major structural element inthe Gospel. The journey to Jerusalem is a journey by Jesus to hisdeath but, as the passion predictions indicate, also to resurrectionand heavenly glory (cf. Acts 2.36). It is (only) through the death ofJesus that the new covenant is inaugurated (22.20). Theimplication is that what Jesus and the prophets have said aboutJerusalem will soon be realized with the full appearance of thekingdom of God.

IRONY IN THE GOSPEL

Irony plays an important role in Luke. ‘Irony’ denotes the differentlevels of understanding which emerge when the narrator or Jesusexpresses a view which embodies information that is denied toother characters. ‘Double irony’ occurs when one of the charactersunwittingly says something that is true but without realizing thatthe statement is true. Irony is a feature of many narrative texts. InLuke it occurs because the other characters lack either theauthoritative knowledge of Jesus or the information imparted tothe readers by the narrator.

The conditions for the Gospel’s irony are established in theInfancy Narrative. This presents Jesus as no ordinary person but asthe Messiah whom Judaism had long expected. TheInfancy Narrative tells the readers what they need to understandthe story. Their expectations are raised particularly by theCanticles which explain how God has ‘come to the help of Israel


his servant’ (1.54); how ‘the dawn from heaven will break uponus’ (1.78); and how God has prepared ‘deliverance…in full view ofthe nations’ (2.31). This means that, when the mission of Jesus isintroduced in chapter 4, little of what is said there comes as asurprise.

We have seen that the characters in Luke enjoy different levelsof understanding about Jesus. No-one understands him completelybut we can nevertheless distinguish three levels of comprehension.The disciples are committed followers (for all theirmisunderstanding). The people are basically neutral. The Jewishleaders are generally opposed to Jesus (at least by the end of theGospel). Only the readers know the full truth about him. They areguided by the words of Jesus and, it must be said, by theblundering of the narrator into realizing that Jesus is Christ andthat his status as Messiah is achieved only through the sufferingand death of the cross.

The first indication of irony is the healing of the possessed manin 1.40–1. The devil identifies Jesus as ‘the Son of God’ when he iscast out of the man. This is ironic because the demon uttersknowledge which is true but which the other characters understandonly incompletely. That the demons should identify Jesus in thisway, but have their correct identification ignored by the othercharacters, is a prominent theme of the early chapters.

There is irony also in the interaction between the author and thenarrator. In chapter 9 Peter identifies Jesus as Messiah. Jesus saysnothing to contradict this identification (9.20). The narrator,however, says that Jesus ‘gave them strict orders not to tell this toanyone’ (9.21). The irony lies in the fact that, in suppressing theMessiahship of Jesus which he does on the conscious level, thenarrator fails to recognize that he is suppressing the need for thesuffering of Jesus which he does on an unconscious level (andwhich the author holds against him in the Gospel). Jesus and theauthor have a greater insight than the narrator for this reason. Thereader shares this deeper perspective because he has access to thecomplete text of the Gospel and to the thoughts of Jesus as well asof the narrator.

Irony is most readily apparent in the trial narrative. The ironyrests on the premise that Jesus is in control of the situation and that—to paraphrase a famous analogy—the judged is revealed asthe judge in a remarkable reversal of roles. The trial narrative isprefaced by the Last Supper in which Jesus demonstrates his


control over the situation by telling the disciples that they will bemet by the owner of the upper room (22.7–13). Next, Jesus saysthat his betrayer is at the table (22.21) in a context where therehas been no hint of betrayal so far but where it is said that Satanenters into Judas to denounce Jesus to the authorities (22.3). Theirony is that Judas is apparently ignorant of Jesus’ knowledge of thesituation, and evidently also of Satan’s role in the events whichunfold.

The trial itself redounds with irony. The irony is that Jesus is thevictim but that everything he says proves he is in control of thesituation. In 22.66–71 Jesus is brought before the Sanhedrin andinvestigation ensues. It is the High Priest’s job to identify theMessiah. Instead, the assembly asks Jesus whether he is theMessiah. Jesus says that if he tells them the truth they will notbelieve it (22.67). He then proceeds to tell them the truth about thesituation: ‘from now on, the Son of Man will be seated at the righthand of Almighty God’ (22.69). As he predicts, they do not believeit; but then, in a celebrated case of double irony, they themselvespronounce the truth about Jesus but fail to realize what they say:‘You are the Son of God, then?’ (22.70). When Jesus refuses todeny this—for how could he deny the truth?—they think they havefound conclusive evidence and abjure the need for furtherwitnesses (22.71).

There is further irony in the trials before Pilate and Herod. Bothmen examine Jesus but find no crime in him. Jesus refuses toanswer all charges. This is followed by the Barabbas episode (23.13–25) which is introduced in a curious way. The crowd call forthe release of Barabbas for a reason that the narrator does notexplain. Luke omits the Marcan statement that ‘at the festivalseason the governor used to release one prisoner requested by thepeople’ (Mark 15.6). This turns the demands of the crowd fromlegitimate prisoner-bartering to wilful insurrection. The crowdappear as an angry mob who call for the release of aninsurrectionary (as Barabbas is called in 23.19) and the death of aninnocent man. This is ironic because it is an exact reversal of thesituation outlined by 23.2 where Jesus is accused of insurrection.The Jews prove their inability to understand Jesus when theyunwittingly side with a person who is guilty of an offence of whichJesus has been accused but of which he is manifestly innocent.Nevertheless, Jesus is deliv ered to be crucified (23.24) andBarabbas released (23.25) according to their demands.


The crucifixion completes the picture. Jesus, the victim, issufficiently in control of things to predict the future destruction ofJerusalem (23.28–31). Impaled on the cross, he is mocked by thecrowds: ‘Let him save himself, if this is God’s Messiah’ (23.35).The irony is that Jesus could save himself, for the narrator hasalready hinted as much in his description of Jesus’ agony on theMount of Olives (22.39–46). So, too, has the devil in 4.9–11. TheMessiah freely dies at the hands of his people. At the same time heis identified most ironically as the Messiah, both by the titulus (23.38) and by the crucified criminal (23.39). Here, supremely in theGospel, the connection is made between Messiahship and sufferingin a way that the crowd predictably fails to understand.

Irony reminds the reader that there is more to the Gospel thanmeets the eye. Through the frequent misunderstandings they areconfronted with a portrait of what it means to call Jesus ‘Christ’and shown that he is a suffering Messiah who demands the sameof his followers (9.23). It reminds them to persevere with the pathof suffering when they in turn are misunderstood.

OTHER LITERARY DEVICES IN THE GOSPEL

Finally, we must consider some other literary devices which give theGospel its structure. Repetition is an important literary tool in Luke.At the beginning of his ministry Jesus announces his mission in thewords taken from Isaiah 61 (4.18–19). There is a sense in whichall the people whom he heals are stereotypes (or at least ‘flatcharacters’) who illustrate Isaiah’s basic point that the broken onesare being healed. The reader is not overly encouraged to see thedifferent miracles in isolation from each other or from Jesus’designated purpose in 4.18–19. The healed appear in general to bevariations on Isaiah’s list of victims. Such repetition makes thepoint that the kingdom of God is appearing in the ministry ofJesus. The miracles, presented in this way, are signs that this is so.

Another repeated theme is the journey to Jerusalem which isforegrounded through repetition. The Infancy Narrative describesmore than one such journey. This repetition alerts the reader towhat will be a major theme in the Gospel. Both the narrator (9.51)and Jesus (13.33) comment on the status of Jerusalem in such away as to confirm that Luke sees the city as central to God’seschatolog ical purpose. The frequent references to the journeydraw the reader to the Gospel’s plot and prompt consideration of


the link which it makes between the journey to Jerusalem andJesus’ rejection in the Jewish capital.

At the same time we must notice that the theme of Jerusalem asthe centre of eschatological hope is juxtaposed with Jerusalem thecity destroyed by divine anger. Alone of the Evangelists, Lukemakes Jesus predict the Roman destruction of Jerusalem (21.20).He insists that the punishment of the Jews for their rejection of theMessiah had taken place already. This mirrors a tension that existswithin Hebrew prophecy. Time and again, the prophets expresscontradictory feelings of divine anger and love towards Jerusalem.(The city was of course overrun in 587 BCE at the beginning of theBabylonian Exile.) Luke plays on this ambivalence and includes itin his Gospel. The fact that the necessary punishment has alreadybeen discharged (see 21.20) means that Luke does not contemplatea future punishment of the Jews. This is part of his assertion that atime of liberation is impending.

Parallelism is a different kind of repetition in Luke. There areseveral kinds of parallelism in the Gospel. Luke includes links withearlier Jewish literature (for instance, with Deuteronomy). He alsoincludes parallelism within the Gospel, and parallels between Lukeand Acts.

The Infancy Narrative provides an example of this. The births ofJohn and Jesus are described in parallel but in such a way as toindicate that Jesus is the more important figure to whom Johndefers. The Infancy Narrative at the same time hints that the, bothrather strange, births of these children reflect earlier miraculousbirths. This sets them in the wider context of God’s dealings withthe Jewish nation. One might even say that the birth of Jesus isparalleled by the birth of the church in Acts.

At places in Luke one story looks back to another so thatparallelism is a feature of the narrative style. An example of this isthe story of the Roman centurion (7.1–10) which is followed bythat of the widow of Nain (7.11–17). This recalls the earlierreferences to Elijah and Elisha (4.26–7), again to demonstrate thatIsaiah’s eschatological vision is being realized.

The parallelism between Luke and Acts is striking andsignificant. Luke often matches events in his two volumes, notablyperhaps the trials of Stephen (and Paul) and Jesus. Acts 7.56 (‘I seethe heavens opened and the Son of Man standing at the righthand of God’) is a deliberate evocation of 22.69. The parallelismgains its meaning from the structural consideration that both Luke


and Acts describe journeys which have eschatological significance.The conclusion of Acts in Rome mirrors the conclusion of Luke inJerusalem. Readers of the two-volumed series are left to ponderwhat still remains to happen before the promise of Luke 21.27 isfulfilled.


Chapter 3A reading of Luke

We shall now read Luke as a text and see how the story unfolds.We shall read the Gospel on a sequential basis. I shall pause toexplain the more difficult textual allusions as and when we comeacross them.

CHAPTER 1

Luke makes a change from the earlier Gospel(s) at the beginning ofhis text. He includes a Preface (1.1–4), in the style of Hellenisticscientific writing, which sets out his purpose in writing the Gospel.Luke does not claim to be substantially different in his story ofJesus from the earlier Gospels—and his use of Mark and Matthewconfirms this—but he introduces his own as an ‘orderly account’(1.3) that concerns the things about which Theophilus has beeninstructed. Theophilus may or may not have been a concretehistorical individual; it is impossible to discern his identity at thisdistance. There is no firm evidence in the Gospel that he was ahigh-ranking Roman official, but this suggestion has sometimesbeen made by the commentators.

Luke’s statement that he has ‘investigated everything carefullyfrom the first’ (1.3a, NRSV) should not be taken to imply that theGospel is a piece of historical research in the modern sense. Thepurpose of this ‘orderly narrative’ is given in 1.3–4 by the assertionthat it concerns ‘the matters of which you have been informed’. Thismeans that its suits the demands of primitive Christian catechesis.In this sense it follows ‘the traditions handed down to us by theoriginal eyewitnesses and servants of the gospel’ (1.2). Thecontribution made by the traditional element to Luke should notbe under-estimated. The opening reference to ‘the events thathave taken place among us’ (1.1) includes the period of the church

in this assessment. This means that Luke is better described as astory of salvation in Christ than as a story about the life of Jesus assuch.

The question arises of who is speaking in the Preface. It istempting to conclude that here we hear the voice of the real authorwho briefly appears at this point to state his aims and intentionsbefore the narrator takes over in 1.5. It is possible that we do meetthe real author in this way, but his chosen vehicle forcommunication is writing and this means that we cannot ignorethe presence of the narrator as co-speaker in the Preface. ThePreface also introduces the ‘implied author’ who presents himself asa Christian catechist sifting evidence and presenting it in acoherent narrative. The use of the first-person form is striking,made even more so by the deliberate change in tone in 1.5 wherethe narrator introduces his own speech-pattern which isreminiscent of biblical language. It is worth noting the reference to‘many’ previous writers in 1.1. On my reading of the text, Lukewas written with a knowledge of Mark and Matthew. The phrase,however, possibly implies that there were more written recordsthan these. One wonders whether Luke knew more sources thanwe do or whether his language is hyperbolic. The fact that theimplied author introduces himself as a source of earlier materialmeans in any event that the story is presented as further commentaryon material which is already familiar to the readers.

Luke begins his story with the conception of John the Baptist (1.5–25). The shift to biblical Greek draws the reader to the world ofthe Hebrew Bible where Luke’s plot (and time-scale) in one sensebegins. The style and language support the first stages in the plotwhich describes the miraculous conception of one baby to preparefor the miraculous conception of another.

The Infancy Narrative is crucial for the delineation of plot. Thestructure of the Preface makes John the Baptist a significant figure.Jesus will later identify him with Elijah (7.27). The assumption ofthe Infancy Narrative is that John heralds the kingdom whicharrives with Jesus. The narrator, however, tends to downgradeJohn in Luke and to make him the herald of Jesus because hewants to allow a longer period for the kingdom of God to emergeand to include his own readers in the offer of salvation.

In this opening story we are introduced to the parallelism whichis a significant feature of Luke’s Gospel. The birth of Johnprecedes that of Jesus. The parallelism is not without its

72 A READING OF LUKE

ambiguities, however. There is no clearly articulated delineationbetween John and Jesus to match the Elijah analogy in chapter 7.This is because, although Jesus is greater than John—he is theMessiah (2.11)— John is by no means an inferior figure. John issaid to be the one who will ‘lead his people to a knowledge ofsalvation’ in 1.77 and in whose ministry the ‘dawn from heaven’(1.78) is expected. The bystanders ask approximately the samequestion about John in 1.66 as Herod does about Jesus in 9.9(‘what will this child become?’). John is mentioned first in theGospel and he is described with a greater detail than any othercharacter besides Jesus. He is in every sense a significant figure forLuke’s history of Christian salvation.

Zechariah is offering the daily incense when he witnesses anangelophany (1.8–20; cf. Judges 13). The angel’s heavenly originindicates that authoritative knowledge is disclosed at this point (1.13–17). His speech sets the scene for the story and describes theconditions under which the plot will operate. The angelophany isto this degree an important structural element in the InfancyNarrative (and the Gospel). The angel predicts the birth of Johnand explains his role. He calls John the one who will ‘prepare apeople that shall be fit for the Lord’ (1.17). The echoes here ofbiblical narrative set the plot firmly within the tradition of thedivine promises to Israel. The birth of a child to old and barrenparents recalls the births of Samuel (1 Samuel chapters 1–2) andSamson (Judges 13). Both were important figures in biblicalhistory. John will be more so. He will ‘bring back many Israelitesto the Lord their God’ (1.16). This is an appropriate introductionto the plot which concerns the eschatological restoration orreconstitution of Israel.

The importance of the angelic announcement is emphasized bythe dumbness of Zechariah (1.18–20). This recalls the dumbnessof Ezekiel (Ezekiel 3.26) and the seer’s response to theangelophany in Daniel 10.15. It is a helpless human response todivine revelation which renders human speech redundant. Thebystanders realize that Zechariah has seen a vision (1.21–2) but atthis stage its details are not disclosed. Elizabeth conceals herpregnancy (1.24) to emphasize the miraculous nature of theconception (which was achieved through natural means).

The spotlight now turns on Mary (1.26–38). Another angel-ophany discloses more authoritative knowledge: ‘In the sixthmonth the angel Gabriel was sent by God to Nazareth, a town in

A READING OF LUKE 73

Galilee, with a message for a girl betrothed to a man namedJoseph, a descendant of David; the girl’s name was Mary’ (1.26–7). The ‘sixth month’ relates to the timing of Elizabeth’s pregnancy(cf. 1.24). Mary is said to be betrothed to a Davidide, the Israelitetribe of Judah from which the Messiah was expected to come (cf.20.41–4). Jesus’ messianic credentials are firmly established in thisspeech: ‘You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are togive him the name Jesus. He will be great, and will be called Son ofthe Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of hisancestor David, and he will be king over Israel for ever; his reignshall never end’ (1.31–3). This is a clear statement about Jesus atthe beginning of the Gospel. It shows how strange the ‘messianicsecret’ is when it is introduced in 9.21. Readers know on the basisof 1.31–3 (which constitutes divine revelation, mediated by theangel) that Jesus is the promised Messiah who will reign overIsrael for ever. There is nothing secret about this for the readers.For readers who live in the period between the ascension of Jesusand his return from heaven, the angelic statement represents thepromise that the Messiah’s earthly reign will take place (‘he will beking over Israel for ever’) even though Jesus is now in heaven (andhis return seems delayed). The emergence of the kingdom is anassured feature of Lucan eschatology even though its timingremains uncertain. This angelic statement introduces some of thecomplexities of the plot whereby the liberation of Israel is achievedthrough the death, ascension and return from heaven of Jesus.

The angel deals with Mary’s objection that she is a virgin (1.34–8). Luke writes with a knowledge of Matthew’s Gospel whichincludes the prophetic demonstration that Jesus would be born ofa virgin (Matthew 1.23). This makes Luke’s quite circumspectdescription of the virgin birth somewhat surprising. Matthew’sscriptural justification for the belief and his statement that Josephrefrained from intercourse with Mary (Matthew 1.25) are bothomitted here. Luke says only that ‘the Holy Spirit will come uponyou, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you’ (1.35).This phrase is capable of more than one interpretation. It probablymeans that the Holy Spirit will impregnate Mary, who remains avirgin; but it does not exclude the possibility that Josephimpregnated Mary. That Jesus is virginally conceived has to beinferred by the reader from the narrative. It is not explicitly statedthere. Perhaps this is because Luke thinks that virginal conceptionmight be frowned on by some of his readers.


The parallelism between John and Jesus is emphasized whenMary visits Elizabeth (1.39–45). John stirs in Elizabeth’swomb when Mary arrives (1.41), as if he knows who Jesus is.Elizabeth blesses Mary and calls her ‘the mother of my Lord’ (1.43).Here, we find another title for Jesus that will be important in theGospel. Jesus for Luke is ‘Lord and Christ’ (Acts 2.36). Both titlesare used in chapter 1, but Jesus’ direct speech avoids ‘Messiah’until after the passion (24.26). Luke nevertheless tells the readersthe full truth about Jesus before the story begins.

In this context the Magnificat is set (1.46–55). The Magnificat,ostensibly a hymn about Mary, is in fact a hymn about Jesus, atleast in its second half. The opening verses echo Elizabeth’sgreeting. All generations will count Mary blessed (1.48) for Godhas done great things for her (1.49). 1.50–5 describes what Godwill achieve through Jesus. There is a strong note of reversal in 1.51–3 which states that the mighty will be cast down from theirthrones and the hungry be filled with good things. This anticipatesthe Nazareth sermon in chapter 4 where Isaiah’s eschatologicalprophecy of good news for the poor is said to be fulfilled with thecoming of Jesus (4.18–19). There is an interesting parallel to thistheme of reversal in the Jewish work called The Similitudes ofEnoch (1 Enoch 37–71; first century CE) which describes theoverthrowing of the powerful in connection with the heavenlyenthronement of the Son of Man (e.g. 1 En. chapter 62). TheMagnificat thus reflects a Jewish apocalyptic background, just asthe body of the Gospel (notably 22.69) presents the Son of Man asan enthroned heavenly mediator in agreement with the Similitudesof Enoch. The notion of reversal is an eschatological one as Lukepresents it. It anticipates the yet-to-be fulfilled aspect of thekingdom of God which Luke connects with the return of Jesusfrom heaven. The Magnificat ends by reiterating the theme of 1.32–3 that God’s mercy to Israel (the ‘children of Abraham’) will lastfor ever (1.54–5). This again locates the centre of the Gospel’seschatological hopes in the tradition of the biblical promises toIsrael.

Mary returns home before John’s birth (1.56). She is removedfrom the scene to permit the description of John’s naming anddestiny in 1.57–80. At the child’s circumcision he is given thename, John (1.63). Zechariah is permitted to speak after he hasinsisted on this name, just as in Ezekiel the prophet’s tongue isloosened to proclaim God’s message to Israel (Ezekiel 33.22). The


bystanders’ question, ‘what will this child become?’ (1.66), isanswered by Luke in the Benedictus (1.68–79). Zechariah saysthat God has ‘turned to his people and set-them free’ (1.68). He has‘raised for us a strong deliverer from the house of his servantDavid’ (1.69). The Benedictus has an implied christologicalcontent but we should not ignore its high evaluation of John. Johnis the one with whom the age of salvation is said to begin. TheBenedictus makes the point that, although the full realization ofthe eschatological hope still lies in the future, ‘knowledge ofsalvation’ (1.77) is present already.

CHAPTER 2

Chapter 2 describes the birth of Jesus. The introduction (2.1–2)makes this an important event with its reference to the censuswhen Quirinius was governor of Syria. This is a census for which,it must be said, historical scholarship has failed to find precisecorroboration. By this ruse Joseph travels from Nazareth toBethlehem so that Jesus is born in David’s own city (2.4–6). Onecould not imagine that the Messiah should be born anywhere else(whatever the historicity of the tradition). Mary wraps Jesus inswaddling clothes and lays him in the manger because there is noroom for them at the inn (2.7). The description of the birth is notembroidered through any description of animals or by reference tohardship. One should not romanticize the scene any more than thestory allows. ‘Swaddling clothes’ are held appropriate to a Jewishmonarch in Wisdom 7.4 (‘no king begins life in any other way’). Itis obvious from what follows that the manger becomes a throne inLuke.

The first people to be told about the birth are the shepherds (2.8–20). The shepherds have symbolic value in the story. David was ashepherd before his enthronement. ‘The shepherds of Israel’ are theJewish kings in the Hebrew Bible (see Ezekiel 34.2). The shepherdswho hear of the Messiah’s birth recall the narrative of 1 Samuel 16where David’s anointing took place among shepherds.1 An angeltells the shepherds what the readers know already: ‘Today therehas been born to you in the city of David a deliverer —theMessiah, the Lord’ (2.11). This authoritative declaration recallsGabriel’s words from 1.32–3 (‘he will be king over Israel for ever’)and reinforces their meaning through repetition. The fact that themanger and the swaddling clothes are mentioned again in 2.12


confirms they have symbolic value in the narrative. The ‘manger’perhaps recalls the words of Isaiah 1.3 (‘an ox knows its ownerand a donkey its master’s stall; but Israel lacks all knowledge, mypeople has no discernment’). The swaddling clothes are probably aroyal sign (see above). The whole passage redounds with messianicsymbolism. The noun ‘Saviour’ in 2.11 (NRSV) and the referenceto ‘peace on earth’ (2.14; cf. 1.79) reflect what was believed in theHellenistic world about Augustus and his age of peace and presentthe birth of Jesus in similar terms. Both Jewish and Greek imageryis employed in this passage to describe the birth of theeschatological redeemer.

The shepherds go to the manger and tell their story (2.15–20).The manger is the focus for the narrator’s revelation of Jesus to theworld. Into the private world of Mary and Joseph step unspecifiedothers who lend it dignity through their astonishment (2.18). Thisseems an incongruous element in the story but it anticipates whatwill be said about the reaction to the adult Jesus in the Gospel (e.g.4.22).

The naming of Jesus in 2.21 recalls that of John in 1.57–66. Thedescription of John’s circumcision is longer because it supplies thefoil for that of Jesus. Jesus, like John, is given a name disclosed byan angel.

Journeying to Jerusalem is an important structural theme inLuke. The Infancy Narrative describes two such journeys inadvance of the final journey to Jerusalem. Both of these arejourneys to the temple. 2.22–3 (the purification) allows thenarrator to explain the plot. Onto the stage steps Simeon, ‘onewho watched and waited for the restoration (literally‘consolation’) of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him’ (2.25).‘Restoration’ in this context is an eschatological term. It signifiesthe climax of Israel’s history which had been anticipated by theprophets and which Luke believes is inaugurated in the ministry ofJesus. Luke says that Simeon has been told by the Spirit that hewill not taste death until he sees the Lord’s Messiah (2.26). He isguided into the temple when Jesus arrives there (2.27). He takesthe infant into his arms and utters the words of the Nunc Dimittis.His canticle, and presumed death afterwards, is a vivid convictionthat the time of restoration has arrived: ‘I have seen with my owneyes the deliverance you have made ready in full view of all thenations’ (2.30–1). This statement embodies the substantial basis ofLuke’s plot as we have seen. 2.32 strikingly includes the Gentiles in


the promised ‘deliverance’ and emphasizes this point with anunusual order of words (Gentiles first, Jews second). Simeonpredicts the rejection of Jesus in this context (2.34–5). He therebyanticipates the nature of the Messiahship which the Gospelemphasizes.

Simeon’s testimony is reinforced by that of the prophetessAnna (2.36–8), for in Jewish law there must be more than onewitness. Anna ‘talked about the child to all who were looking forthe liberation of Jerusalem’ (2.38). This, too, sets Jesus in thecontext of Jewish eschatological expectation. One should beware ofseeing here a ‘nationalized’ reference to the liberation of Jerusalemfrom the Romans. Luke stands his distance from such arevolutionary interest (see 20.19–26) and presents the Romandestruction of Jerusalem as one of the eschatological signs that wasforetold by Jesus (21.20). This liberation of Jerusalem is aneschatological liberation. It will be accomplished by God alone.Anna too anticipates the time when the biblical promises aboutIsrael will be fulfilled.

Luke is the only (canonical) Gospel to tell us anything about thechildhood of Jesus. Anecdotes were a feature of Hellenisticbiography. Luke records but one anecdote (2.41–52). The materialis carefully selected. It describes another journey to Jerusalem,again to the temple. Jesus goes missing and is eventually found byhis parents in the temple, disputing with the Jewish teachers. Itseems almost as if he cannot be kept away from there. He tells hisbemused parents, ‘Did you not know that I was bound to be in myFather’s house?’ (2.49). This warns the reader that journeying tothe temple is going to be a major theme in the Gospel. We haveseen that it is decisive for the plot.

CHAPTER 3

Chapter 3 returns to John the Baptist and to his preaching. Again,Luke sets this on the international scale with his reference to thereign of Tiberius, the procuratorship of Pontius Pilate and thejurisdiction of other figures of authority (3.1). At the end of this(deliberate and self-conscious) scene-setting the narratorpronounces: The word of God came to John son of Zechariah inthe wilderness’ (3.2). The biblical tone of this statement is equallydeliberate and self-conscious (cf. 1 Samuel 15.10). John’scommission results in his proclamation of a ‘baptism in token of


repentance for the forgiveness of sins’ (3.3). Luke makes John’s apenitential movement which he thinks has a preparatory nature.The Gospel cites part of Isaiah 40 in 3.4–6 to present John as theone who ‘prepare[s] the way for the Lord’. Luke here followsMark’s use of Isaiah but the last phrase of the citation (‘allmankind shall see God’s deliverance’) is not found in Mark and isintroduced here to include the Gentiles in the sphere of salvation.

John’s preaching falls into two parts. In the first place there isethical instruction which has an eschatological basis (3.7–14). Johnwarns people to expect judgment and not to trust in their status as‘children of Abraham’ as the guarantee of salvation (3.8–9). Thismaterial is held in common with Matthew (Matthew 3.7–12).Luke removes Matthew’s suggestion that it is addressed to thePharisees and Sadducees and sets it more generally against thecrowd (3.7). They are told to prove their repentance by bearing fruit(3.8–9). Luke also introduces further material, not found inMatthew, to warn people about the need for simple and honestliving (3.10–13).

The second half of John’s preaching mirrors the crowd’suncertainty about whether he is the Messiah (3.15). Readersalready know that John is not the Messiah but he supplies aformal denial of this point (3.16–17). John contrasts his waterbaptism with Jesus’ future baptism of people ‘with the Holy Spiritand with fire’ (3.16). He states also that Jesus would be the agentof judgment (3.17). We are veering here towards the view thatJohn is the herald of Jesus which is adopted by the narrator. Thestatement about Jesus’ baptism with fire and with the Holy Spirithas a mainly theological purpose in the Gospel. It can beelucidated with reference to a passage in Acts. Acts 8.14–17 is anaccount of how the Holy Spirit entered into the SamaritanChristians at some point after their baptism through the laying-onof hands by the apostles. That passage reflects the fact that,whereas in its earliest period, Christian baptism was administered‘in the name of Jesus’ (e.g. Acts 2.38), later in the first century aTrinitarian formula of invocation was felt desirable (see especiallyMatthew 28.19–20). My view is that Acts 8.14–17 explains Luke3.16 when it develops the baptismal formula in a Trinitariandirection. ‘Baptism with the Holy Spirit’ means Christian (i.e.initiatory and water-based) baptism and not some exceptionalexperience that is distinct from it. The reference to baptism withfire anticipates the final judgment which 9–26 defers until the


return of Jesus. The second baptism mentioned here is thus aneschatological one.

Luke’s sense of chronology is neat and precise. He removes Johnfrom the scene before Jesus’ baptism (3.18–20) so that there is noformal overlap between the two figures (as there is, for instance, inJohn 3.22–3). This creates uncertainty as to who baptized Jesus. Ifwe take the chronology seriously the baptism takes place afterJohn’s imprisonment so that John himself could not haveconducted it. Luke does not say that Jesus was baptized by John.Those who wish to believe that he did must again infer this fromthe text. Jesus is said to have undergone the rite ‘during a generalbaptism of the people’ (3.21). This statement certainly gives it ananonymous air. The description of the event in 3.21–2 has fourdistinct parts: the baptism itself; Jesus at prayer; the descent of theSpirit from the open heaven; and the heavenly address to Jesus. Onlythe last two mark Jesus out as someone exceptional. In Mark theheavenly address has the nature of a private vision in which Jesusalone is told the significance of his ministry (see Mark 1.9–11).Luke partially reworks this impression by leaving out the words‘he saw’ (i.e. the descending Spirit) but nothing is said to indicatethat the heavenly words make a deep impression on other people.The heavenly voice nevertheless supplies an authoritativeidentification of Jesus similar to the angelic pronouncements in theInfancy Narrative.

Jesus is introduced as God’s beloved, or only, Son with whomthe divine favour rests. The first half of this address comes fromPsalm 2.7 which in the Hebrew original is addressed to the Jewishking. First-century Judaism and Christianity used ‘Beloved’ as atitle for the Messiah. The second half of the address is based onIsaiah 42.1 which was originally spoken of the servant of Yahweh,who seems to be a cipher for Israel in that passage. Luke’sheavenly voice here identifies Jesus as the Messiah, echoing what issaid in 2.11. The descent of the Spirit on Jesus indicates that he isthe person uniquely possessed by the Spirit. This is an importanttheme in the Gospel (see below on chapter 4). The comparison ofthe Spirit with a dove perhaps recalls the opening verses of Genesis(Genesis 1.2) where the Spirit of God is said to hover over thewaters. This means that, at what was regarded as the climax ofJewish history, a link is made with its beginning as the Spirit settleson the person who will carry out the final judgment.


The baptism is followed by the genealogy of Jesus (3.23–38).Matthew too has a genealogy (1.1–17) but there are significantdifferences between the two versions. Luke’s version probablyrepresents, at least in part, a reworking of Matthew’s genealogy.Matthew begins from Abraham and works forward; Luke beginsfrom Jesus and works back to Adam. Luke’s list is longer thanMatthew’s. It is not certain that it is accurate but it does at leastshow that Jesus is a Davidide (3.31) and mentions the patriarchs(3.34). If Luke is reworking Matthew he may have wanted toavoid the statement that Jesus was descended from Abraham,which presents him exclusively in Jewish terms. The descent fromAdam (3.38) shows that Jesus is connected with the nations aswell. It is possible that Luke is influenced by Paul’s description ofJesus as ‘the second Adam’ (e.g. 1 Corinthians 15.45) for bothJesus and Adam are called ‘Son of God’ in the Gospel (3.22, 38).Luke’s order of presentation ends the list with the phrase ‘Son ofGod’, as if to draw attention to this title.

CHAPTER 4

In chapter 4 Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilderness for thetemptation. There are echoes here of Israel’s wilderness wandering(especially in the ‘forty days’ of 4.1; cf. Numbers 14.34); but, incontrast to the Hebrew story, Jesus’ desert sojourn is a time ofvictory over Satan and not of disobedience. The place of this storyin the Gospel—before Jesus’ ministry formally begins—makes itparadigmatic of Satan’s defeat which is described in the laterchapters. The fact that Jesus uses Scripture to refute Satan suggeststhat he has the authority to give the Bible its authoritative meaning,which we saw is an eschatological property (cf. 1 Corinthians 10.11; 1QpHab 7.1–6). The beginning of the temptation story tellsthe reader what kind of contrast is in play: Jesus is ‘led by theSpirit and tempted by the devil’ (4.2). This explains Jesus’unwavering loyalty to God in a single sentence and shows why thedownfall of Satan’s kingdom is assured.

The three temptations derive from pre-Lucan tradition. Lukereverses Matthew’s order to draw attention to the third temptationwhich takes place in the temple. The temptations have bothindividual and cumulative significance. The request to turn stonesinto bread (4.3–4) is the temptation to misuse divine power. Itpossibly recalls the miracle of the streaming rock (Exodus 17.1–7)


which occurred after God had promised to rain down bread fromheaven (Exodus 16.4). This is answered by the citation ofDeuteronomy 8.3 LXX (‘man is not to live on bread alone’) whichMatthew preserves in a longer form (‘but on every word thatcomes from the mouth of God’; Matthew 4.4). Luke’s truncatedstatement makes the reader wonder what is more important thanbread. The rest of the Gospel contains some clues to answer thatquestion. God supplies daily bread (11.3); the breaking of breadbecomes Jesus’ distinctive action in the Gospel (22.19; 24.30, 35);for Luke, it is the symbol of the kingdom of God (14.15). Thekingdom of God—obedience to God —is the thing that is moreimportant than bread.

The next temptation (4.5–8) concerns the nature of God’skingdom. Jesus is offered all the kingdoms of the world if he willworship the devil as their lawful owner. Luke recognizes the devil’ssupremacy in the human world—the demons, after all, possesspeople in the Gospel—but he insists that Satan is retreating beforethe kingdom of God (see especially 10.18). The second temptationis a pictorial demonstration of the conviction that, with the arrivalof Jesus, Satan’s ability to do what he claims—to distribute thekingdoms under his patronage—has been removed, for someonestronger is overpowering him (11.22). The scriptural citation in 4.8summarizes this belief by saying that God alone must beworshipped. Dawsey finds here the hint that Jesus is beingcompared with Joshua.2

The third temptation (which Luke highlights) is the temptationto take Jerusalem by surprise. The devil takes Jesus to Jerusalemand offers him a means of instant recognition as the Messiah. If hejumps from the parapet of the temple, the devil insinuates, Godwill send the angels to catch him (4.9–11). This is the temptationfor Jesus to capture Jerusalem without his suffering and death.That is a way of discipleship which Luke rejects. The tragedy ofthe Gospel is that the Messiah journeys to Jerusalem to be rejectedby the Jewish people. When he does do something exceptional inthe temple (19.45–6), this leads to the decision for his death (19.47). The progress of the Gospel shows that what the devil says iswrong. God does not spare Jesus (though doubtless he could havedone); Jesus’ repudiation of this temptation (4.12) is a way ofsaying that his installation as Messiah must take place through thecross. On the Mount of Olives, where Jesus wrestles with hisimpending death, he twice tells the disciples to pray lest they enter


into temptation (22.40, 46). This looks back to the thirdtemptation and reminds the readers to resist the temptation ofremoving suffering from their portrait of Christian discipleship.

The middle part of chapter 4 (4.14–30) is crucial for the plot.Jesus visits his home synagogue in Nazareth and is invited to readfrom the Bible, after which he offers an exegetical homily. Theselected passage is from Isaiah 61 (‘The Spirit of the Lord is uponme…. He has sent me to announce good news for the poor’). Jesusbegins his homily by announcing: ‘Today…in your hearing this texthas come true’ (4.21). The implication is that the prophecyis fulfilled both through the unique status of Jesus and moregenerally through the realization of Isaiah’s eschatological vision,which has begun to happen. This part of chapter 4 isprogrammatic for Jesus’ ministry. It constitutes his firstexplanation of what his mission is about.

The story has some internal difficulties which tease the readerinto thought. The congregation initially receives Jesus’ sermon withfavour and marvels that it should come from ‘Joseph’s son’ (4.22).In 4.23 Jesus seems to become cynical and says: ‘No doubt youwill quote to me the proverb, “Physician, heal yourself!” and say,“We have heard of all your doings at Capernaum; do the samehere in your own home town.”’ Cynicism turns to hostility in 4.24–7. Jesus says that ‘no prophet is recognized in his own country’. Hefollows this with the stories of Elijah and Elisha who were sent topeople outside Israel. These words ‘roused the whole congregationto fury’ (4.28). They take Jesus to the brow of a hill to kill him (4.29) but he walks through the crowd and goes away (4.30).

The strangeness of the story makes the reader ask what ishappening. At first sight, it is Jesus and not the townspeople whobehaves badly. They welcome him; he insults them. Thosecommentators who argue otherwise see the question of 4.22b, ‘Isthis not Joseph’s son?’, as disparaging, as it is in the Marcanversion of the story (Mark 6.1–6). But Luke significantlyabbreviates the text of Mark and this interpretation is by no meansobvious. The towns-people’s reaction is given by 4.22a: ‘there wasgeneral approval; they were astonished that words of such graceshould fall from his lips’. This makes it unlikely that 4.22b is asneer. It is Jesus who takes it as a sneer. He criticizes the people’srejection of himself and of all the prophets in Israel.

Evidently, we are dealing with an exchange where some of thelogic is missing. What we know about Luke’s careful manner of


composition suggests that these elements are absent by design. Themissing element is the statement that rejection has taken placealready; Jesus presupposes rejection in what he says. This is whyhe speaks about his own rejection and about the Jewish rejectionof the prophets. This presumed rejection leads, quite ironically, toan act of rejection at the end of the story. The people drive Jesusout of the town and try to hurl him over a cliff. The structure of thestory leads it to confirm its own presuppositions.

Dawsey looks elsewhere in Luke to find this missing evidencefor rejection.3 He thinks that the parable of the great banquetin 14.21–2 contains allusions to this passage in its words, ‘bring inthe poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame’. He also thinks thatthe rejection of John the Baptist—which Luke has describedalready in 3.19–20—gives this story its logic (for it describes aprior act of rejection). We should add that the story almost forcesthe reader to look around for further material to interpret it sinceit is almost deliberately bizarre as it stands. It is programmatic ofthe ministry of Jesus, not just in what it records about his message,but also in what it implies about the course of his career.

The story further explains that the mission of Jesus is to thoseoutside his own country. Jesus does not deny that his mission is toIsrael but he says that ‘no prophet is recognized in his owncountry’ (4.24). This is paradigmatic of the plot since it includes theGentiles in God’s act of salvation. 4.25–7, which is unique to Luke,makes the point—on the basis of Hebrew Bible precedent—thatthe Christian preaching is quite legitimately addressed to peoplebeyond the borders of Israel. This anticipates what will happen inActs and indeed later in Luke (see 7.9). 4.25–7 provides Jesus’ ownauthority for the spread of the gospel in this way.

The story closes with Jesus somehow evading the townspeople’sattempts to kill him (4.28–30). The artificial construction of thestory warns the reader that its conclusion will be as nuanced as therest. The anger of the townspeople is understandable for Jesus hasjust insulted them. It is not clear, however, why they should wantto kill him. This looks more like an attempt at lynching than ajudicial execution. Those commentators who see here thepreparations for stoning reconstruct a quasi-judicial meaning fromthe text. It is more likely that the people simply want to push Jesusover a cliff in demonstration of their anger. This conclusionresembles the story of the Gerasene demoniac in chapter 8. At theend of that story (8.34–8) the pigs rush over the cliff because they


are demonized and Jesus is asked by the townspeople to go away.This is the complete opposite of what we find here. In chapter 4no-one goes over the cliff and Jesus walks away of his own accord.The reader is left asking why Jesus walks away as he does. Theanswer is supplied by chapter 8. Those who go over the cliffs arethe demonized in Luke. Jesus by contrast is possessed by the Spiritof God. That Jesus evades his pursuers is a demonstration of hisSpirit-filled status which is the theme of the whole Gospel. Hewalks away from his would-be assassins for ‘it is unthinkable for aprophet to meet his death anywhere but in Jerusalem’ (13.33).

There is in this perhaps a deliberate contrast with the story ofStephen’s death in Acts 7.54–60. Stephen is driven out of the cityand stoned in the presence of witnesses (7.58). This is indeed ajudicial execution. In Luke 4 Jesus is neither stoned nor killed; theattempt at lynching fails because the Spirit of God brings himthrough. He survives on the present occasion; but, like Stephen, hewill eventually meet his death in the form of a judicial process.

The reader is thereby presented with a whole variety of themesin quite a short story. First of all Luke sets out his understandingof the mission of Jesus. This embodies the demonstration thateschatology is being fulfilled as is explained by the citation ofIsaiah 61 in 4.18–19. This involves the parallel demonstration thatJesus is possessed by the Spirit of God in a context where suchSpirit-possession is itself an eschatological sign. Thirdly, the storyis a paradigm of the mission of Jesus because it anticipates theMessiah’s rejection by the Jewish nation. Fourthly, we shouldnotice that it explains the terms in which the miracles should beunderstood. Those who reject Jesus see them as ‘doings’ (4.23)when they are in fact signs of the kingdom of God, and evidencethat the eschatological programme of 4.18–19 is being realized. Itis significant that this story immediately follows the temptationstory where Jesus’ refusal to work the devil’s miracles is narrated.Fifthly, the story anticipates the inclusion of the Gentiles insalvation through its reference to Elijah and Elisha. It closes byconfirming the Spirit-filled status of Jesus. This provides the linkwith the next story which describes the first of the miracles ofJesus.

In 4.31–7 Jesus drives out the spirits in Capernaum. The firstspirit to be despatched identifies him as ‘the Holy One of God’ (4.34) and asks whether he has ‘come to destroy us’. For Luke, it isappropriate that a demon should recognize who Jesus is. The truth


of the pronouncement is assured by the demon’s supernaturalnature. This identification is the negative counterpart of the earlierangelophanies. Jesus confirms it by casting the spirit out of theman. This proves that, as the Holy One of God, he has a higherprestige than the spirit. It is natural that the bystanders should askthe question, ‘What is there in this man’s words?’ (4.36) andobserve his authority over the unclean spirits. Their rhetoricalquestion is answered by the pronouncement of the manifold spiritsin 4.41. These assert that Jesus is ‘the Son of God’, to which thenarrator adds that they know Jesus is the Messiah. The demons inLuke speak, ironically, with a Christian voice and confirm thetruth of Jesus’ messianic identity which the narrator mistakenlysays is concealed in the Gospel (9.21).

The chapter closes with Jesus’ statement that he must ‘give thegood news of the kingdom of God to the other towns also, for thatis what I was sent to do’ (4.43). This is the first use of the phrase‘kingdom of God’ in Luke. I have suggested that the term is therough equivalent of the phrase ‘liberation of Jerusalem’ (2.38) andbound up with the eschatological hopes of Hebrew writers. Thisprominent motif counters the suggestion that the world belongs tothe devil which has been advanced and rejected by 4.6. For Jesusthe kingdom is present but hidden as his ministry unfolds. In thisreference it must certainly be present if it is to be preached in thisway.

The placing of the first miracles at this point is by no meansaccidental. They follow the Nazareth episode where the meaningof Jesus’ mission is disclosed. Despite the miracles, which revealquite clearly who he is (at least to the demons), Jesus will berejected by the Jews as he is by his own townspeople. The seeds ofthe tragedy are sown at an early point in the Gospel. But there isnothing in Luke to match the indication of Mark 3.6 that themoves to kill Jesus are taken at this early stage.

CHAPTER 5

The call of the first disciples is described in 5.1–11. It has the formof a miracle story but the statement of Jesus in 5.10, ‘from now onyou will be catching people’, shows that this is not its onlyfunction. The miracle, which involves an unexpected catch of fish,makes the point that the fishermen will become workers for thekingdom of God. The performance of this miracle, which follows


the reference to the kingdom as a present reality in 4.43,authenticates the authority of Jesus as he calls the disciples. Peterresponds, ‘Go, Lord, leave me, sinner that I am!’ (5.8) and falls tohis feet. Here, again at an early point in the Gospel, we find whatis effectively the worship of Jesus with the use of the title ‘Lord’and Peter’s reverential falling before him. This reminds the readerthat Jesus the Lucan character is also the heavenly Lord. Somescholars think that 5.1–11 is a post-resurrection story which hasbeen imported into the body of the Gospel. The material doeshowever have a purpose in this pre-Easter setting where itilluminates the double-edged nature of Luke’s characterization ofJesus.

In 5.12 the narrator returns to the miracles of Jesus. Jesusheals a leper—someone who is held unclean by Jewish law (5.12–16). The certification of the cure by the priest (5.14) confirms theauthenticity of the miracle. Here we find an early anticipation ofthe ‘messianic secret’ in the Gospel: ‘Jesus then instructed him notto tell anybody’ (5.14). This statement is assigned to the narrator;Jesus never forbids the promulgation of his Messiahship in Luke.The fact that Jesus instructs the man to consult the priest seems togo against what the narrator says at this point. The tension thatexists in 5.14 should not be overlooked. It will be developed inchapter 9.

A new theme is introduced in connection with the miracles in 5.17–26. This is the issue of the forgiveness of sins which John hadarticulated in connection with his baptism of repentance in 3.3. Theparalytic’s friends lower him through the roof but instead ofhealing him Jesus says to the man: ‘Your sins are forgiven you’ (5.20). This statement doubtless reflects the ancient belief that illnessand sinfulness are connected; but something more than that ismeant here. The point of this story is that the forgiveness of sins isan eschatological function which Jesus discharges. The grounds forholding this view are to be sought in Jeremiah 31.34 whosecontext the longer text of 22.20 shows that Luke knew andreferred to the ministry of Jesus. Forgiveness, as the Phariseesobserve in 5.21, is a divine prerogative. Their criticism is thatJesus, even as a notable wonder-worker, was not worthy to act inthe place of God by doing this. Jesus by contrast boldly declaresthat God’s mercy to sinners, which Jewish sources such as b.RoshHashanah 16b–17a and b. Pesahim 54b reserve for the end-time,is available here and now. The miracle and the pronouncement are


thereby related to the eschatological purpose which the Gospelarticulates.

As a result of this saying, grumbling about blasphemy begins tosurface. Such grumbling has a double edge. It implicitly criticizesthe view that the eschatological benefits have become availablewith the mission of Jesus (as Luke believes that they had). It alsocriticizes Jesus’ claim to act in God’s name in making thisdeclaration. This reaction to the miracle creates the need for aresponse. Jesus is only too happy to oblige by providing one.

In 5.23 Jesus asks a rhetorical question to which there is only onepossible answer: ‘Is it easier to say, “Your sins are forgiven you,”or to say, “Stand up and walk”?’ (5.23). Clearly, the former istrue. This is the logic on which the story rests. The fact that Jesusthen heals the man proves that ‘the Son of Man has the right onearth to forgive sins’ (5.24). The narrative conclusion—‘the thingswe have seen today are beyond belief!’ (5.26)—shows the gulf inunderstanding that exists between the crowd and the readers. Thecrowd see the miracles but do not understand what they mean.The readers know what the miracles mean because they read fromthe perspective of faith that Jesus is Lord. Parts of the Gospel aredirected against the readers, especially in the central section wheretheir understanding of Jesus’ Messiahship is criticized. The authorbegins by getting the readers on his side in contrasting theirknowledge with that of the crowds. He will later use this empathyto criticize them.

This miracle is followed by the call of Levi (5.27–8). Thatbecomes the occasion for some disputes and sayings of Jesus whichtake place in Levi’s house (5.29–39). The Pharisees complain thatJesus ‘eats and drinks with tax collectors and sinners’ (5.30). Jesusreplies that he has come to call ‘sinners to repentance’ (5.32). Thispicks up the thought of 5.24 and no doubt reflects Levi’s vocationas a tax collector. The dispute is followed by the Pharisees’comparison between the behaviour of the disciples of John theBaptist and that of those of Jesus (5.33). They complain thatJohn’s disciples are devoted to prayer and to fasting but that Jesus’disciples revel much too much. Jesus states that his disciples eatand drink because the bridegroom is still with them (5.35). Fastingwould be appropriate to the period when he had been taken away(5.35). Here, Jesus anticipates his rejection at the hands of theJews.


The contrast between new and old in 5.36–9 is effectively astatement about the meaning of eschatology. Jesus says that a newpatch should not be put onto an old garment, nor new wine intoold skins. The implication is that something decisively new hasarrived with his preaching. Readers know that this ‘new something’is the eschatological age. The place of this saying, after thecomparison between Jesus and John the Baptist, implies that evenJohn belongs to the old order because he merely heralded thefulfilment like the other prophets. This passage looks forward tothe enigmatic statement of 7.28 where Jesus says that the least inthe kingdom of God is greater than John the Baptist.

CHAPTER 6

Chapter 6 is a collection of sayings with loose narrative links. Theindividual episodes are introduced imprecisely: ‘one sabbath’ (6.1); ‘on another sabbath’ (6.6); ‘during this time’ (6.12); and so on.This is the method that Luke will adopt in the central section ofthe Gospel. It implies that Luke’s purpose is not the exactrecollection of the occasion when something was said but thetransmission of Jesus’ words themselves. The episodes gain theirforce from their content which is woven into the wider narrative(the form of which is retained even though the links are loose).

The Jewish institution of the sabbath appears to be criticized in6.1–5. We have seen that the focus of this passage really concernsthe temple. Jesus’ disciples do what is technically regarded as workand are criticized for this by the Pharisees. Jesus justifies theirbehaviour with reference to a Hebrew Bible story about David.David and his band ate the sacred bread from the temple. It isimplied that, in the same way, Jesus the Messiah, as Lord of thesabbath, has authority over Jewish institutions. Luke removesMark’s additional comment, ‘the sabbath was made for man, andnot man for the sabbath’ (Mark 2.27), and thus makes the disputespecifically concern the authority of Jesus. Several themes coalescehere. In the first place, Jesus’ status as Messiah shows that a neworder had arrived. Paul had taught that ‘Christ is the end of theLaw’ (Romans 10.4). This is the view reflected here. Secondly,there is an implied view of the inviolability of the temple whichhints, but does not say explicitly, that its functions could bechallenged by someone with messianic authority. In this sense, thestory anticipates the cleansing of the temple in 19.45–6, for there


Jesus does something unexpected in the temple. Finally, there is thealso-implied view that the followers of Jesus can follow his attitudeto the temple. This is what we find in Stephen’s speech in Actschapter 7 where the temple is roundly criticized.

The next incident is the healing of the man with the witheredarm (6.6–11). This happens on the sabbath but again the issue iswider than a sabbath controversy. It concerns the nature of themiracles themselves. The scribes and Pharisees watch to see if Jesuswill heal on the sabbath so that they can find a charge against him(6.7). Jesus ‘knew what was in their minds’ (6.8) and organizesevents accordingly. He does perform the miracle (6.10) but onlyafter asking a question which allows no easy answer: ‘Is itpermitted to do good or to do evil on the sabbath, to save life or todestroy it?’ (6.9). The obvious implication is that the Son of Man,as Lord of the sabbath, can use the day of rest for a restorativepurpose. Jesus duly heals the man and the Pharisees lick theirwounds. It is said ominously at the end of the story that: ‘theytotally failed to understand, and began to discuss with one anotherwhat they could do to Jesus’ (6.11). This marks the beginnings of ahostile interest in him (but contrast Mark 3.6 again).

The next section describes the call of the Twelve (6.12–16). Thisis a partial repetition of 5.1–11 which establishes the significance ofthe Twelve as co-workers with Jesus. They are called ‘apostles’, thetitle which features many times in Acts. It is worth noting thatthere is full agreement among the Gospels about the number of theTwelve but general disagreement as to their names. ‘Judas, son ofJames’ is the unique feature of this list. The Twelve have aneschatological function in the Gospel as the designated leaders ofthe tribes of Israel (22.30). This of course explains their number.

After this Jesus preaches and heals people who are suffering fromvarious diseases. The narrator says that people come from a widevariety of places to hear Jesus (‘from Jerusalem and all Judaea andfrom the coastal region of Tyre and Sidon’, 6.17). His popularity isgrowing, despite what is said in 6.11. The general public may notfully understand Jesus but they are grateful towards him and nothostile. Such was his power that they have only to touch him to behealed (6.19).

The second half of chapter 6 records Jesus’ teaching to hisdisciples. This is addressed as much to the readers as to theoriginal characters. The first part of this section contains the Lucanversion of the Beatitudes (6.20–3). Luke differs from Matthew in


including woes as well as blessings. The meaning of the Beatitudesis given by the first of them: ‘Blessed are you who are in need; thekingdom of God is yours’. Interpreters have often seized on thefirst phrase to identify Luke’s concern for the poor as the centralfeature of this section, linking it appropriately with 4.18–19; butthe second phrase is the crucial one. The Beatitudes describe thekind of behaviour that is appropriate to the kingdom of God. Thepeople described in 6.20–1—the needy, the poor and the weeping—are types like the stock characters whom Jesus heals in the Gospel.The Beatitudes show that the kingdom of God involves a newperspective on society in which those who are downtrodden will behelped. The fourth Beatitude (‘Blessed are you when people hateyou and ostracize you…because of the Son of Man’, 6.22) has anobvious setting in the experience of early Christian churches (cf. 8.19–21). 6.23 links the rejection of Christians with the Jewishrejection of the prophets.

In Chapter 5, I shall argue that the contrast envisaged here has asocial and economic dimension. The preaching of Jesus isaddressed to a situation characterized by ‘dependency’ in which afew people had the ability to exploit the majority, who lacked thepower to resist them. Jesus’ preaching embodies the convictionthat the existing order needs to be changed. It articulates theconviction that such change is both possible and impending. Thisis why the Beatitudes are counterbalanced by the Woes in Luke (6.24–6). The Beatitudes are an expression of hope for thedowntrodden and offer a new vision for society. The Woes are awarning of judgment for those who oppress the poor. We cannotread any of the Gospels without noting the social situation towhich the preaching of Jesus is addressed. This is characterizedboth by inequality and by the conviction that things can bedifferent. The Beatitudes express this belief in paradigm form.

The theme of the Woes (6.24–6) is again one of reversal, butviewed from the other side. Those who are currently rich aredestined for a fall. This looks back to the theme of the Magnificatwith its parallels in Jewish apocalyptic literature. We should notimmediately conclude that some of Luke’s readers were rich,although several of them may have been quite well placed to judgefrom the prosopography of other New Testament texts. The terms‘rich’, ‘hungry’ and ‘laugh’ contrast with the portrait of thekingdom in 6.20–1 and warn readers that people can placethemselves in such a position that they become strangers to the


kingdom. The Woes are as much a call to self-examination amongthe readers as a more general prediction of judgment for outsiders.They warn that some may fail to enter the kingdom because theyhave moved out of sympathy with its basic aims.

The collection of material in 6.27–30 demands carefulinterpretation. At first sight it is a call for a ridiculous meekness:love for enemies, pacifism, even giving beyond the call of duty. Thekey to the passage is the recognition that hyperbole features here.Luke deliberately overstates his case to draw attention to the needfor a more moderate action. 6.29 echoes the words of John theBaptist (3.11). It presents Jesus, like John, as teaching ethics of akind appropriate to the belief that judgment is near (cf. especially3.17). This is the theme also of 6.25 (‘you will go hungry…youwill mourn and weep’) where the future judgment is based on thecriteria of present status and response. Luke here advocatesa generous form of behaviour under the belief that the kingdom ofGod is already present.

Ethical exhortation continues throughout the chapter. 6.31–6says that people must treat others as they would like to be treatedand adds to this the promise of eschatological reward. Theimplication is that Christians must be more virtuous than otherpeople, evidently because the author is aware of the possibility thatthey, too, may fall under judgment. The motive presented for thisin 6.35 (‘you will have a rich reward’) seems almost self-interestedbut there is a (not so) subtle blend of threat and promise in thischapter. Those who do what is virtuous will ‘be sons of the MostHigh’. It is implied that those who do not will not.

There follows in 6.37–49 a collection of sayings with no obviousconnection between them. Here are found such well-knownparables as the mote and the speck (6.41–2) and the house built onsand (6.46–9). The passage begins with teaching about judging,condemning and forgiving (6.37–8). Not much distinguishes Jesushere, it must be said, from other ethical traditions (cf. b.Megillah28a). The parable of the blind leading the blind (6.39) is combinedwith the statement that no pupil ranks above his teacher. Thespeck in the brother’s eye is a warning against hypocrisy (6.41–2).6.43–5 is a reminder that Christians must demonstrate behaviourwhich shows that they belong to the realm of salvation. The finalsaying (6.46–9) cautions that those who call Jesus ‘Lord’—whichmeans Christian readers—must do what he tells them (which nodoubt means obeying the ethical principles enshrined in the


chapter). This is illustrated by the parable of the house built onsand which contains an echo of the eschatological judgment in itsfinal crash (6.49).

In 6.46 (‘Why do you call me, “Lord, Lord…?”’) we find a clueto the focus of this ethical teaching. It is addressed to Christianswho are in danger of not doing what Jesus tells them. For thisreason basic teaching about humility and service is included torecall readers to a particular pattern of behaviour. Theintroduction of this teaching with the Beatitudes and Woes sets outthe contrasting ethical possibilities with a stark realism. Those wholook to their own comfort will be confounded at the return ofJesus. Those who looked to the interests of others will receive aneschatological reward. The final crash reinforces this warning andencourages readers to make changes in their lives. ‘Obeying Jesus’in this context means doing what Luke tells the readers to do.

Most of the material in this section is not situation-specific. Thatis to say, it deals with general principles and not with preciseindividual situations. Part of the reason for this may be the desireto make Jesus say something that is relevant to many of thesituations which people in the primitive church encountered. It alsoallows the interpretation and application of these ethical principlesto be worked out by people in those different situations. One canimagine that this material probably served as the source forexegetical homilies in its earliest usage. Metacommentary on thewords of Jesus is not just a modern phenomenon! The form of thematerial even suggests that it depends for its meaning on theprovision of subsequent commentary. It is compressed and does notread easily when compared with Luke’s pacier narrative. Itrequires careful unpacking and consideration to give meaning toshort phrases such as ‘Do not judge, and you will not be judged’ (6.37). Luke nevertheless regarded this material as essential to hisGospel. Ethics features there because the ‘pureness of thecommunity’ was a crucial factor for Christian bodies as theymaintained high social boundaries in respect of outside groups in apolymorphous pagan world (cf. Ephesians 5.25–6). It is likely thatthe kind of ethics we find here— general principles for Christianbehaviour—was developed precisely because people failed to livelives that matched the ideal in every respect. Such material waspossibly developed in the course of catechesis and preaching, andattributed to Jesus to lend it authority.


CHAPTER 7

Chapter 7 relates the deeds and sayings of Jesus in the region ofCapernaum. The function of the chapter is to recall what Jesus hassaid about his mission in chapter 4, especially in 4.18–19, and todemonstrate that the eschatological vision is indeed being realized.This is evident especially in the allusions here to the stories ofElijah and Elisha (cf. 4.25–7). The middle part of chapter 7describes John’s questioning of Jesus, answered by the miracleswhich are signs of the kingdom of God. This passage supplies theelement of rejection that is missing from chapter 4 when thenarrator comments: ‘the Pharisees and lawyers, who had refused[John’s] baptism, rejected God’s purpose for themselves’ (7.30).

The story of the Roman centurion with the sick servant is relatedin 7.1–10. Here we have an echo of the story about Elisha inchapter 4, for the centurion is of course a Gentile (although it isnot said that the servant is a Gentile). The servant falls ill and thecenturion asks Jesus for help through some ‘Jewish elders’ (7.3;presumably influential people in the synagogue). 7.4–5 developsthe portrait of the centurion: ‘he deserves this favour from you’,the elders say, ‘for he is a friend of our nation and it is he whobuilt us our synagogue’. This brings the centurion close to thecategory represented by Cornelius whom Acts describes as a ‘God-fearer’ (e.g. Acts 10.2). He is an interested Gentile like those whoconvert to Christianity in Luke’s second volume. The story hasanother feature which appears in 7.6–10. Not only does thecenturion believe that Jesus can heal but he acknowledges his highstatus: ‘I am not worthy to have you come under my roof’ (7.6).More than once in Luke, Roman centurions pronounce the truthabout Jesus; 23.47 is another example. 7.6 is not an explicitstatement of Jesus’ divinity but it does make the reader ask why aGentile should address him in this way. The centurion expresseshis sure belief that Jesus will heal his servant, producing his well-known military analogy (7.7–9). This leads Jesus to comment: ‘noteven in Israel have I found such faith’ (7.9). That seems to be thepoint of the story. Luke, following Paul, tells his readers thatGentiles can participate in salvation on the basis of their faith inJesus. When the messengers return home they find the servantrestored to health (7.10). The working of the miracle is the proofthat the Gentile has been included in this way. The benefits of thekingdom of God are thus shown to be extended beyond people in


Israel. It is significant that the Jewish elders should plead for thisextension.

Jesus proceeds to Nain where he sees a funeral procession (7.11–17). Luke has the art of presenting narrative details with simplepoignancy: The dead man was the only son of his widowedmother’ (7.12). The narrator continues: ‘When the Lord saw herhis heart went out to her, and he said, “Do not weep”’ (7.13). Thetitle ‘Lord’ shows that this is the compassion of God himself whocares for the fatherless and widows in Jewish ethics (see e.g.Deuteronomy 10.18). This story recalls that of Elijah who wassent to the widow of Sarepta (4.26). Jesus touches the bier andtells the young man to get up (7.14). Jesus then restores him to hismother (7.15). 7.16 brings the sequence of miracles to a conclusionwith the statement, attributed to the crowd, ‘a great prophet hasarisen among us’ (7.16). We thus have two consecutiverecollections of stories about Elijah and Elisha as if the allusionsare not coincidental. The reader is purposefully taken back tochapter 4, where Jesus’ eschatological programme is announced,and shown that Isaiah’s prophecy is being fulfilled.

The passage 7.18–28 about John the Baptist is crucial.4 John istold about Jesus’ miracles by his disciples. He sends them to askJesus whether he is ‘the one who is to come’ (7.19). This is thequestion of whether Jesus is the eschatological Elijah. Jesus givesno direct answer but performs further healings (7.21). Thosehealed include the blind and sufferers from many diseases. Jesusthen gives John’s disciples the following answer: ‘Go and tell Johnwhat you have seen and heard: the blind regain their sight, thelame walk, lepers are made clean, the dead are raised to life, thepoor are brought good news—and happy is he who does not findme an obstacle to faith’ (7.22–3). This statement from Jesusconfirms that the eschatological programme announced inchapter 4 is being realized. The reader quite rightly draws thisinference from the narrative, and a further inference follows fromit. Jesus is not Elijah (the herald) but the one whose ministry issynonymous with the arrival of the kingdom itself.

This reply problematizes the status of John the Baptist in Luke.Jesus makes the crowd ponder whom they went out to see (7.24–8). Jesus’ own conclusion is that John is a prophet ‘and far morethan a prophet’ (7.26). He cites Malachi 3.1 (in a form influencedby Exodus 23.20) to declare that John is the herald (7.27). In theterms established by Malachi this must mean that John is the


prophet Elijah. Malachi says that Elijah will immediately precede‘the great and terrible day of the Lord’ (Mal. 4.5). Jesus herepresents John as Elijah. The context of this saying, however, whichis constructed by the narrator, represents a development of thatidea. It makes John the herald of Jesus and not of the kingdom assuch. The narrator does not deny that the kingdom has beeninaugurated with the ministry of Jesus but he concentrates on its‘unfulfilled’ aspect to allow his second-generation readers toparticipate in the kingdom. There is a significant difference inoutlook in this. Jesus teaches that the kingdom is present buthidden; the narrator argues that it has yet to be consummated inthe future. Both of course are right, given that Jesus speaks aboutan unrealized and future aspect of the kingdom (chapter 21). Thenarrator’s view is a reinterpretation of Jesus’ understanding butnot, it must be said, a fundamentally different eschatology.

This is the way in which 7.28 should be read. In 7.28 Jesus says:‘Among all who have been born, no one has been greater thanJohn; yet the least in the kingdom of God is greater than he’.Commentators have been scandalized by this passage because itseems to exclude John from the kingdom; but Luke does not infact say that this is so. The statement concerns the presence of thekingdom among those who hear Jesus (cf. 17.21). John is removedfrom the scene in Luke before the baptism of Jesus (3.20) and sodoes not hear the preaching of the kingdom. As Jesus presentsJohn, he is the last in the series of prophets who heralds ‘the greatand terrible day of the Lord’. 7.28 is a statement of narrativetimescale which draws attention to the fact that the last days havearrived. The passage comments on the great privilege of those whoheard the preaching of the kingdom, and not initially on theinferior status of John.

The narrative conclusion to the story carefully delineates thesupporters and opponents of Jesus. The people (including the taxcollectors) ‘acknowledged the goodness of God’ because they hadreceived John’s baptism (7.29). The Pharisees and lawyers, whohad refused John’s baptism, ‘rejected God’s purpose forthemselves’ (7.30). This is a retrospective commentary on theeffects of John’s baptism. Many people accepted it. Some, however,rejected it. In the logic of 7.27–8, where John is Elijah and thekingdom is present already, the rejection of John signifies therejection of Jesus and of the kingdom. This is the missing linkwhich explains 4.21–30. Those mentioned by 7.30 are not the


precise groups who are said to take the decision to kill Jesus in 19.47 (‘the chief priests and the scribes, with the support of theleading citizens’) but one wonders whether it is really correct todistinguish between the opponents of Jesus, for they represent a‘common type’ in the Gospel. People fall into two camps in 7.29–30. The precise constitution of the opposing camp is subordinateto this broader distinction. This reference to John sets the Jewishrejection of Jesus in perspective and warns the reader of itsinevitability.

To this is added, on the lips of Jesus, a commentary on hisrejection. He says that it may be based on misunderstanding butthat it is culpable none the less. ‘How can I describe the people ofthis generation?’, Jesus says in 7.31. They are like children whorefuse to join in the game, even when it is changed to suit them (7.32). John the Baptist fasted and they held him possessed (7.33).The Son of Man comes eating and drinking and they call him aglutton who keeps bad company (7.34). The implication of thesaying is not that ‘you never can win’, but that such people hadalways refused all of God’s advances, however they wereexpressed. This makes for a link with the saying about thebridegroom in 5.33–5 which confirms that the theme of rejectionis high on the agenda of this passage. 7.35 summarizes what is saidhere: ‘God’s wisdom is proved right by all who are her children’ (7.35). John and Jesus had both come with what Fitzmyer calls a‘critical, eschatological message’.5 Although what they said mightseem offensive, especially what Jesus says about the temple, it wasvalidated by divine Wisdom and therefore must be true. The‘people of this generation’ were not Wisdom’s children at allbecause they had failed to recognize the divine moment when itcame to them. This is what will be said more lucidly about theinhabitants of Jerusalem in 19.44.

The story of Jesus at dinner in the house of Simon the Pharisee istold in 7.36–50. This story has several parts. In 7.37–8 animmoral woman appears to anoint Jesus and to wash his feet withher tears. No reason is given for this but Simon instantly connectsit with sexual misbehaviour: ‘If this man were a real prophet, hewould know who this woman is who is touching him, and what abad character she is’ (7.39). Simon—who appears in the story assincere but misunderstanding—knows that the woman is aprostitute and suspects she is exercising her charms on Jesus. Jesuscounters this conclusion with a parable (7.40–3). Two debtors are


forgiven little and much. Jesus asks Simon which of the two owesthe greater gratitude to the creditor. Simon replies, correctly, thatit is the one who is forgiven more. Jesus then commends thewoman’s attitude (7.44). She has shown great affection for Jesus.This presents her as a penitent and not as a sinner: ‘her great loveproves that her many sins have been forgiven’ (7.47). The womanhas been included in the eschatological restoration because sheaccepts the forgiveness of sins, when (the virtuous) Simon failed torecognize his need for penitence (and is therefore by implicationexcluded from the restoration): ‘where little has been forgiven littlelove is shown’ (7.47). The story thus subverts the suggestion of 7.39 that Jesus has failed to recognize the woman’s true character. Hehas, in fact, perceived much more than Simon. He sees the womannot simply as a prostitute but as a penitent. This means (as thereader duly concludes) that Jesus really is a prophet. His propheticability lets him look beyond superficial levels of meaning to seepeople’s true character. The conclusion of the story makes Jesuspronounce the woman’s sins forgiven (7.48) and to say that herfaith has saved her (7.50). There is an obvious echo in this of 5.17–26 which makes the point that class and gender distinctions areirrelevant to member ship of the kingdom of God (cf. Gal. 3.28).

CHAPTER 8At the beginning of chapter 8 Jesus tells the parable of the sower(8.1–8, 11–15). I have suggested that this is in one sense a parableabout parables. It tells the reader how to approach Luke, andreiterates the warning of 6.46 that readers must do what Jesus (andof course what Luke) says. Several classes of poor ground aredescribed but there is really only one distinction. This is betweenthe ground that bears fruit and that which does not. It isinteresting that in 8.12 the first kind of poor ground is said to bethat scavenged by the devil. Although the devil might take some,and other pitfalls arise, ‘some of the seed fell into good soil, andgrew, and yielded a hundredfold’ (8.8). In the contest betweenJesus and Satan, the final outcome is not in doubt (as the miraclesconstantly demonstrate).

The parable and its interpretation are separated by a statementby Jesus about the meaning of the parables. The disciples ask Jesuswhat the parable of the sower means. He tells them: ‘it has beengranted to you to know the secrets of the kingdom of God; but theothers have only parables, so that they may look but see nothing,hear but understand nothing’ (8.10). For Jesus, the kingdom of


God is a present reality, albeit an unseen one. This means that itssecrets can be disclosed to his followers. His statement indicatesthat the parables have more than one level of perceptibility. Thoseoutside the kingdom hear the parables but fail to understand theirmeaning. This represents a play on the meaning of the word,‘parable’. A parable is only a parable for those who know what itmeans. In this context these are those to whom Jesus tells themeaning. A parable becomes an obstacle for those who do notknow what it means (cf. 20.18).

The interlude confirms that Luke sees the sower as a parableabout parables. The poor ground corresponds to the ignorantoutsiders of 8.10. These ‘look but see nothing’. This is because theparables of Jesus have the kingdom as their basic theme. Thekingdom is present but hidden in Luke. Those who fail tounderstand the story fail to recognize that the kingdom has arrived.When they are told about it they will not listen. There is a sense inwhich Luke thinks that the behaviour of Christian disciples is thevisible fruit of the invisible kingdom. This is why the parable of thesower is followed by the parable of the lampstand: ‘those who comein may see the light’ (8.16). Luke’s ethical instruction is intended toproduce a series of signs which show that the kingdom hasarrived. He says that readers must take care how they listen (8.18),for the future will bring an examination of how people havebehaved (8.17).

In this context, where the kingdom makes its appeal, even familyties are irrelevant. 8.19–21 describes how Jesus’ family come tohear him. Jesus seems at best ambivalent towards them. Hecomments enigmatically: ‘my mother and my brothers are thosewho hear the word of God and act upon it’ (8.21). The narratorsays neither that Jesus refused to see them nor confirms that heactually did. Luke does however exclude Mark’s statement that thefamily of Jesus thought he was mad (Mark 3.21). He relies on thedevice of hyperbole to supply the meaning of the statement. Whencompared with the demands of the kingdom, not even the mostcentral of human relationships can intervene (cf. 21.16). Thisenigmatic statement probably represents a further repudiation ofthe culture of ‘dependency’ that pervaded first-century Palestine.

The rest of chapter 8 relates four miracles of Jesus. These raisethe question of Jesus’ identity to prepare for Peter’s identificationof him as Messiah in chapter 9. The first is a nature miracle (8.22–5). Jesus calms a storm and prevents the disciples’ boat from


sinking. The story is said to concern faith (8.25) which for Lukemeans faith in Jesus. The disciples ponder who Jesus is given thatthe wind and the waves obey him. It is surprising to find themapparently uncomprehending but the disciples are in fact prone tomisunderstanding throughout the Gospel. The story itself containsinformation to answer the question which draws readers back tothe Bible. In the Psalms God is the one who is said to still the stormand the waves (Psalm 107.29). This means that the miracles ofJesus disclose the action of God himself.

The boat journey brings the disciples to the territory of theGerasenes (8.26). There Jesus meets a man who is possessed bydemons (8.27). Like the other demonized in the Gospel, this manknows Jesus’ identity and hails him as ‘Son of the Most High God’(8.28). Jesus orders the demon to come out from the man (8.29).The story has an unexpected twist which means that it does notsimply repeat the earlier examples. Jesus asks the demon its nameand is told, ‘Legion’ because the man is possessed by many demons(8.30). He casts them into a herd of pigs who rush headlong overthe cliffs to their death (8.32–3). The men in charge of the pigs seewhat happens and lose no time in telling it to their friends (8.34).They find the man clothed and in his right mind (8.35). The storycontrasts with chapter 4 where Jesus fails to go over the cliff becausehe is the person imbued with the Spirit (4.29–30). The contrastwith the earlier story is a striking (and probably a deliberate) one.The story ends with the whole population asking Jesus to go away(8.37) because he has perplexing powers (and no doubt becausethey were running short on pigs).

The third miracle is the raising of Jairus’ daughter (8.40–2a, 49–56). Interspersed with this is the fourth miracle, the healing of thewoman with haemorrhages (8.42b–48). There are obviousparallels between the story of Jairus’ daughter and that of thecenturion’s servant in 7.1–10. Jairus is president of the synagogue.He, too, believes that Jesus can heal. The figure twelve, which issaid to be the daughter’s age, features also in the story of thewoman with the haemorrhage. She had been ill for twelve years (8.43). The repetition means that the figure is foregrounded. Itsuggests that the healings symbolize the eschatologicalreconstitution of the twelve tribes which Luke thinks is happeningin the ministry of Jesus (cf. 22.30).


The Gospel’s plot is developed in chapter 9. At the beginning ofthe chapter Jesus gives the Twelve power over demons (9.1) andsends them out ‘to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal thesick’ (9.2). Here, he shares his ministry with the Twelve (just as inthe church they hold authority during the absence of Jesus). 9.1–2specifically links the disciples’ authority over demons with theirproclamation of the kingdom of God.

The description of the Twelve’s simple lifestyle, which bearscomparison with the instructions given to the seventy(seventytwo?) in chapter 10, probably reflects the experience ofitinerant figures in the early Christian world. There is similarinformation in the late first century document called the Didache(11.3–6). The reason that the Twelve are to take nothing for theirjourney is because they are expected to receive support from thetowns and villages that they visited. The fact that the commissionis repeated in a different form in chapter 10 means that thecommand to evangelize stems from Jesus himself (cf. Matthew 28.20, which Luke omits at the end of his Gospel).

Interspersed between the commission and the return of theTwelve is the description of Herod’s enquiries about Jesus (9.7–9).Herod wonders whether John or one of the prophets has beenraised from the dead and whether Jesus is Elijah. The readeralready knows that John, and not Jesus, is Elijah (7.27). Thisquestioning of Jesus’ identity prepares the way for Jesus himself toraise the issue later in the chapter. The reference to John’s death,which is introduced almost incidentally by 9.9, means that theeschatological Elijah has perished like the prophets before him.This bodes ominously for the fate of Jesus and reminds the readersthat Christian discipleship means an inevitable path of suffering.

On their return Jesus takes the Twelve aside for furtherteaching. He is surrounded by the crowds who hang on his words.The feeding of the five thousand is narrated in this context (9.10–17). This miracle presents Jesus as the source of nourishment.Readers would probably have made links with the ChristianEucharist (cf. John 6), but these are not made explicit in the text.

We now come to a crucial passage in the Gospel. It embodies animportant disagreement between Jesus and the narrator concerningthe identity of Jesus. Luke makes Jesus question the disciples abouthis identity (9.18–27). Jesus asks who people think that he is andis told variously John the Baptist, Elijah and a resurrected prophet(9.19). The narrator implicitly holds all these definitions wrong.


CHAPTER 9

Jesus then enquires who the disciples think that he is. Peter repliesthat he is God’s Messiah (9.20). Jesus neither accepts nor rejects thetitle. We have seen that he will not call himself ‘Messiah’ until 24.26. ‘Son of Man’ is what he says he is beforehand. The narratorthen appends his own commentary to this episode. He says that:‘[Jesus] gave them strict orders not to tell this to anyone’ (9.21).Here he forbids the promulgation of Jesus’ Messiahship whichJesus himself never does at any point in the Gospel. Jesus’ silencein 9.20 is a significant one because it makes readers ask why Jesusdoes not formally accept the title (which Luke has already told thereaders is rightfully his). His reticence foregrounds the need forsuffering and service among the disciples of Jesus. This is why, in 9.22, Jesus begins to speak about the suffering of the Son of Man.

The motif of secrecy is not without irony in 9.20–1. There is anelement of concealment in the passage which the author usesagainst the narrator to expose his misunderstanding of thepassion. The narrator says that Jesus keeps his Messiahship secret.This is his own interpretation which contrasts with what Jesus says(and does not say) about the issue. The irony is that the narratorunwittingly suppresses the suffering of Jesus in his attempt toconceal the Messiahship of Jesus. He makes Jesus forbid thepromulgation of his Messiahship (9.21). Jesus then proceeds toexplain precisely the kind of Messiah he is (9.22) so that the‘messianic secret’ is controverted in his own direct speech. This iswhat the author allows to happen. It lets the author dialogue withthe narrator (and thus with the readers) and to foreground theneed for suffering as will be clearly explained in the connectionbetween Messiahship and suffering made by 24.26. The irony restsin the fact that the narrator speaks against the words of Jesus andthereby shows that he does not understand what Jesus is saying.This makes readers ask who is telling the truth and what thedisagreement signifies. The author by implication holds against thenarrator his failure to recognize the connection betweenMessiahship and his suffering and thus presents the narrator to theperceptive reader as a whipping-boy whose misunderstanding mustbe avoided.

The suffering of the Son of Man will entail suffering for hisfollowers, Jesus says in 9.23–7. Those who follow Jesus mustfollow the way of the cross (9.23). It is not certain what this meansin practice but formal persecution of the Christians by the Romanswas rare in the first century (being confined to the short Neronian


pogrom of 64 CE). There is more evidence for it in second-centurysources but these document the period after Luke was written. Theprimary reference of 9.23 is symbolic as the striking languageindicates (‘day after day he must take up his cross’). Walking withthe cross meant bearing the stigma of a religion whose founder hadbeen executed by the Romans and which constantly had to justifyitself to the world for that reason. To this is linked the theme ofservice as several passages indicate. Bearing the stigma of the cross— and only that—will lead to acceptance by the Son of Man whenhe comes from heaven (9.26).

Jesus states that the Son of Man will come in the relatively nearfuture: ‘There are some of those standing here who will not tastedeath before they have seen the kingdom of God’ (9.27). Thedirect and obvious meaning of this statement can hardly becircumvented. Jesus says that he will return before all the disciplesare dead. Given that Luke was not written until c. 90 CE, and thatthe author retains this saying, it seems to be a prediction ofeschatological imminence for Luke’s readers. 9.27 reminds readersthat they stand under the same eschatological conditions as whenthese words were first spoken. This is by no means conducive to theview that Luke relegates the climax of eschatology to the indefinitefuture. Readers must persevere with the path of suffering andservice. They should ‘hold [their] heads high, because [their]liberation is near’ (21.28).

This important exchange is followed by the Transfiguration (9.28–36). Jesus takes Peter, James and John up the mountain and istransformed before them to resemble a heavenly being. The basis ofthe story lies in earlier Jewish visions of God and of angels. Thereis a tradition in Jewish apocalyptic literature, which derives fromthe theophany, that an angel appears in the likeness of God (cf.Daniel 10.5–6). It has been debated to what extent this representsa modification of Jewish monotheism. Certainly, the angel is neverincluded in worship. But he is a significant member of the heavenlycourt who transcends the other angels. Reminiscent of Jewishangelology in this passage are the references to Jesus’ face and hisdazzling white garment (9.29). The Transfiguration reworks thisstrand of angelology to make Jesus a second divine being who issubordinate to God. This anticipates the status that he will acquirein the ascension and presents a vision of Jesus as he will be seenwhen he returns from heaven. The passage should be compared


with Acts 7.56 where Stephen sees Jesus standing at the right handof God, as if he has risen from his throne to return to earth.

Other heavenly characters feature in the Transfiguration. Mosesand Elijah appear but then disappear. More than reason has beenproposed to explain their presence. Many think that they representthe Law and the Prophets. It is difficult, however, to see why Elijahshould have been chosen for this role when no biblical book isnamed after him. Moses is often regarded as a prophet in Jewishtradition (and why is there no representative of ‘the Writings’, thethird division of the Hebrew Bible?). More convincing, perhaps, isthe observation that both figures have eschatological significancein Jewish tradition. Elijah was expected to return at the end-time(Malachi 4.5). Jesus says that he has already done so in the personof John the Baptist (7.27). Moses typifies the ‘prophet like Moses’whom Deuteronomy 18.15 predicts for the future (and whom Acts3.22 identifies with Jesus). Luke implies that Moses and Elijahhave come and gone and that the decisive eschatological figure ispresent. This is why Jesus is left alone on the stage to be identifiedby the heavenly voice: ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to him’(9.35). This is beyond doubt a messianic identification whose truthis assured by the heavenly pronouncement. The presence ofthe Messiah on earth means that the eschatological age hasarrived. The heavenly voice effectively controverts what thenarrator says in 9.21. That Jesus is the Messiah is not a secret inLuke at all. It is proclaimed by the heavenly voice—the highestpossible authority. There is thus more to the ‘messianic secret’ thanmeets the eye and I have explained this in terms of the narrator’ssuppression of the suffering motif which the author impresses onthe readers.

The heavenly visitors discuss Jesus’ ‘departure’ (9.31). This is thesequence of events he accomplishes in Jerusalem, primarily hisdeath and resurrection (but also the ascension). The phrasecontradicts the view that Luke has no ‘theology of the cross’. Itimplies that the decisive eschatological events will be fulfilledthrough the death of Jesus. This is a major theme in the Gospelwhich emerges from the earliest chapters (not least from the thirdtemptation). Given that Jesus sees his death as a ‘new covenant’(22.20), this passage reinforces the belief that it has significancefor the realization of the eschatological age.

The Transfiguration immediately precedes the final journey toJerusalem (9.51). This is prefaced by four incidents. First of all, a


man in the crowd tells Jesus that the disciples cannot cast out anevil spirit from his son (9.37–43). To this Jesus makes thecomment: ‘What an unbelieving and perverse generation!’ (9.41).The recipients of this criticism are the disciples, for the man iswilling to believe they can effect a cure. The words echoDeuteronomy 32.20 (‘they are a subversive generation, children notto be trusted’) where the speaker is God. 9.41 thus recalls thedivine criticism of Israel to emphasize the lack of understandingeven among the disciples. This is especially poignant, it must besaid, at a time when three of them have just seen a vision of hisheavenly glory.

Characteristically in Luke, an incident a few verses later looksback to this one. In 9.49–50 the disciples tell Jesus they have seen aman casting out demons ‘in [his] name’ and tried to stop him.Jesus rebukes them with the comment: ‘Do not stop him, for hewho is not against you is on your side’ (9.50). This replyauthenticates the results of faith in Jesus. Even those beyond thecircle of the disciples can cast out demons because of the powerassociated with his name. Faith in Jesus is the critical thing bywhich the demonic world is subdued.

These two incidents are separated by two passages whichemphasize the nature of Christian suffering and service (and whichseem directed at the readers). In 9.44 Jesus tells the disciples that‘the Son of Man is to be given up into the power of men’. Thenarrator appends his own commentary to this statement. He saysthat the disciples do not understand what Jesus says because itsmeaning has been ‘hidden from them so that they cannot grasp it’(9.45). This places them in the same category as the ignorant onesof 8.10. Given that the readers are the successors of the disciples,this is a criticism of their misunderstanding. They are remindedthat Jesus only becomes Messiah through suffering. That is thepath which they must follow.

This prediction of suffering is followed by a dispute among thedisciples as to which of them is the greatest. This dispute appearsto criticize presumption in the readers’ community. Jesus takes achild and says that whoever receives a child receives him, ‘for theleast among you all is the greatest’ (9.48). The connection with theprevious passage lies in the link between discipleship and service.Readers are reminded that only this is the pattern of Christiandiscipleship.


A watershed in the plot is reached in 9.51: ‘As the timeapproached when [Jesus] was to be taken up to heaven, he set hisface resolutely towards Jerusalem.’ In 9.52 Jesus sends messengersto the Samaritan villages through which he will pass. TheSamaritans fail to welcome Jesus because he was journeying toJerusalem. (9.53). This contrasts with the later story in Acts 8.6where they pay close attention to Philip the deacon. The rejectionof the messengers at this stage is symptomatic of the widerrejection of Jesus. It prompts James and John to ask whether theyshould call down fire from heaven to consume the Samaritans (9.54). That recalls Elijah’s actions against the prophets of Baal in 2Kings 1.10, 12 where fire is called down and consumes the falseprophets. Jesus rebukes the disciples for their suggestion (9.55).This does not avert the Samaritans’ punishment but it doespostpone it until the eschatological future. Later in the Gospel Jesuswill say that he has come to cast fire on earth but that it is not yetkindled (12.49). Judgment for Luke is a future certainty which isdeferred until the kingdom’s full manifestation.

The question of preparedness for the kingdom is discussed in 9.57–62. The section deals with objections to Christian discipleship.Hyperbole again features here. In 9.58 Jesus warns against the hopefor a comfortable home with reference to his own example: ‘theSon of Man has nowhere to lay his head’. The demands ofthe Christian mission are such that they come above family ties:the dead must bury their own dead (9.60), so urgent is the task ofpreaching. Not even a fond farewell to one’s family is allowed: no-one who is gripped by the message of the kingdom but turns tomore mundane matters is fit for the kingdom (9.62). This passageis ‘sandwiched’ between two other stories which supply thecontext of its meaning. 9.52 describes the commission ofmessengers. 10.1–12 will describe the further commission ofmessengers. This confirms that reflection on the Christian missionundergirds 9.57–62. The theme of absolute devotion to Jesus findsits explanation in this context.

CHAPTER 10

The ministry of itinerant figures in early Christianity has againinfluenced 10.1–12. This passage describes the sending-out ofmessengers. Their number is given variously as ‘seventy’ and‘seventy-two’ in the manuscripts. It is possible that, if Luke


originally wrote ‘seventy’, he was thinking of the traditionalnumber of the nations of the world each of which is assigned arepresentative. That would accord with the flow of thought in Actswhich concludes with the Christian gospel being proclaimed inRome. On the other hand ‘seventy-two’ is the harder reading. Thevariant is much discussed in the commentaries and I do not feel theneed to resolve it here.

The missionaries are sent out by Jesus without financial support(10.4; cf. 9.3). Like the prophets of the Didache they must rely onhospitality from the towns and villages that they visit (10.7). Twodifferent kinds of audience are envisaged for their preaching. Somepeople accept the message of the kingdom. Others reject it (cf. 8.4–8). The latter category put themselves in danger of judgment whichis symbolized by the shaking-off of dust from the feet of themessengers (cf. Acts 13.51). The kingdom of God is a threateningthing for them because it will involve a fate worse than Sodom’s(10.12), and of Tyre and Sidon (10.14). This will be thepunishment of destruction by divine wrath. The significant thing isthat this passage expects that the towns and villages will be judgedaccording to their reaction to the messengers of Jesus. Thisdevolves a considerable authority on the messengers on the groundsthat they are emissaries of the Son of Man.

Before the return of the seventy (or seventy-two) isdescribed, Jesus gives the reason for this extension of his authorityto the disciples: ‘Whoever listens to you listens to me; whoeverrejects you rejects me. And whoever rejects me rejects the One whosent me’ (10.16). This reflects the Jewish view than an agent hashis master’s full authority. It makes the messengers speak with theauthority of God. (There is a close parallel to this saying in John13.20 which raises the question of the relations between Luke (andthe other Synoptists) and the Fourth Gospel.)

The missionaries return to tell Jesus of their experiences (10.17).They report that even the demons submit to them (10.17; contrastthis with 9.40). Their report is followed by Jesus’ apocalypticvision in which he sees Satan fall like lightning from heaven (10.18).This vision represents a commentary on his own ministry. Jesusholds that his mission involves Satan’s overthrow which takesplace as he speaks. That Satan has fallen from heaven does not ofcourse exclude the possibility that he continues to be active onearth. Indeed, it is evident from 22.3 that he is active there. 10.18is an apocalyptic vision which projects into the ministry of Jesus


what now pertains in heaven and will be realized on earth in thefuture: the complete sovereignty of God which is the state of beingthat Luke calls the kingdom of God. To this extent it makes thefuture hope a present reality.

The disciples’ authority is further expressed in the strangecomment about snakes and scorpions in 10.19- These are hereequated with ‘all the forces of the enemy’, recalling perhaps thestory of the fall in Genesis (Genesis chapter 3). If Genesis is in view,it is possible that Luke thinks of Genesis 3.15 where the serpent istold that humankind will ‘strike at [his] head’. This implies that, inthe Christian mission, the old enemy is finally being defeated. InActs Paul successfully handles a snake (Acts 28.3–6) so that Jesus’words are fulfilled in Luke’s second volume.

Apocalyptic categories undergird 10.20: ‘Do not rejoice that thespirits submit to you, but that your names are enrolled in heaven.’The thought is not that the disciples will pass to a heavenlyexistence after death but that their names have been inscribed in theheavenly ledgers which will ensure their safety at the final andearthly judgment. 10.21–2 continues the atmosphere of heavenlyrevelation in words that again have affinities with John’s Gospel(chapter 17): ‘No-one knows who the Son is but the Father, orwho the Father is but the Son, and those to whom the Son choosesto reveal him.’ The section concludes with the statement of Jesusthat ‘many prophets and kings’ desired to see and hear what thedisciples did (10.23–4) but that they had not done so. Thisindicates quite clearly that Israel’s hopes are in process of fulfilmentas Jesus journeys towards Jerusalem.

The parable of the good Samaritan is Jesus’ response to a test-question from a lawyer (10.25–37). The lawyer asks what he mustdo to gain eternal life. He is told, on the basis of the TenCommandments, to love God and love his neighbour with fullsincerity (10.27). The parable answers his supplementary question,‘Who is my neighbour?’ (10.29). Its purpose is not so much tooffer a legal ruling about the identity of neighbours, including ethnicneighbours, as to expose the hardness of heart which had createdcertain restrictive attitudes towards neighbours. Of those who seethe wounded man, only the Samaritan helps him. He is theneighbour, despite the traditional hostility between Jews andSamaritans. The narrator’s attitude to the Samaritans has changedfrom chapter 9. In Acts chapter 8, Samaritans are among the firstto embrace the Christian gospel. The parable of the good


Samaritan places the Samaritans in the readers’ minds andencourages them to reflect on where they fit into the widerpurposes of God.

The story of Martha and Mary (10.38–42) highlights theimportance of attentiveness to Jesus. The reader has a considerablesympathy for Martha, distracted as she is by her many tasks (10.40). Jesus apparently rebukes her (10.41) but the rebuke calls tomind the language of 9.57–62. That language is hyperbole whichoverstates a contrast in order to reinforce it. The crucial thing islistening to Jesus which over-rides all other responsibilities. Thisstory presents female disciples in the same terms as male discipleswhen it criticizes Martha for fulfilling the traditional role ofserving those who sit at table. It reminds readers to consider theteaching of Jesus. This prepares the way for probably the best-known teaching of all.

CHAPTER 11

The Lord’s Prayer follows the story of Martha and Mary in 11.1–43. It begins a section about prayer, doubtless because it is thearchetypal way in which the primitive Christian communitiesprayed. The Lord’s Prayer is attributed to Jesus to give itauthority. It begins with a blessing on the name of God and aprayer for the coming of the kingdom (11.2). One can imagine theearly Christians praying like this whenever they met for worship.Luke thinks the kingdom is already present in the ministry of Jesusand tells the readers to pray for its full and final manifestation.The prayer continues with the request for daily bread (11.3). Itmoves from there to penitence (11.4) and concludes with a petitionthat Christians may not be ‘put to the test’ (11.4). This is perhapsthe process of inward temptation rather than the final,eschatological trial.

Jesus continues with stories about the need for persistence inprayer (11.5–10) and the goodness of God in providing the HolySpirit (11.11–13). This teaching gains its logic from the fact thatprayer for the coming of the kingdom precedes all other forms ofintercession (11.2). Persistence in prayer for the kingdom musthave been an important item of teaching in early Christianchurches as the return of Jesus tarried. Jesus seems to imply that(only) the persistent would be answered. This reminds readers to


pray hard for the things that they most desired (including theeschatological hopes to which Luke refers).

The next saying (11.11–13) softens this portrait by explainingthat God is not an ill-tempered old grudge who must be persuadedby repeated insinuation. 11.13 even recognizes the limitations ofhuman language for describing the generosity of God. If humanbeings can give good things to their children, then God will domore so. The kingdom will come because that is what God wills forhis children!

There is a return to the theme of the miracles in 11.14–20. Itscontext is a dispute about the authority by which Jesus acts. He isaccused of driving out the demons (the basic miracle in Luke) bythe power of the chief demon, Beelzebul (11.19). The narratoradds that people demand a sign from heaven to test him (11.16).The dispute means that Jesus is under scrutiny. He replies with asaying aimed at his detractors. If Satan is divided against himself,Jesus says, his kingdom must surely fall (11.18). Jesus adds that itis not by Beelzebul that he casts out the demons but by the ‘fingerof God’ (11.20). This phrase alludes to the Pentateuch (Exodus 8.19; Deuteronomy 9.10) in a biblical demonstration that Jesusembodies the full power and activity of God: ‘if it is by the finger ofGod that I drive out the demons, then be sure that the kingdom ofGod has already come upon you’. This strong claim is reinforcedby the saying about the Stronger Man who carries off the StrongMan’s armour for spoil (11.21–2). The implication is that, withthe arrival of Jesus, Satan’s rule is coming to an end.

The two striking features of this exchange are the demand for asign and Jesus’ reference to the kingdom of God as a presentreality. That people demand a sign proves they are unable tounderstand Jesus and his ministry. Jesus in fact picks up thedemand for a sign in 11.29–32. Here, we must note that themisunderstanding represented by the request (11.16) is matched bythe popular misunderstanding about why Jesus casts out thedemons (11.15). It is the inability to accept that the eschatologicalage has begun. The accusation of 11.15 is not just that Jesus is inleague with demons but more directly that his miracles have noeschatological meaning. This is the same tendency to look for‘doings’ that is criticized among the Nazarenes in 4.23. It sees themiracles as ‘wonders’, to be sure, but not as ‘signs’ of thekingdom. This inability to understand the miracles is the


fundamental inability to see that the kingdom is present and thatJesus is its critical figure.

The next part of chapter 11 contains an amalgam of sayings,possibly derived from a source. 11.24–6 broadly follows theBeelzebul controversy. It makes the point that a person (‘a house’),when cleansed from a demon, must be filled by something else —clearly, by the Spirit of God—otherwise the demon will return withseven worse fiends and that person’s plight will be worse thanbefore. This saying must have found a ready context in earlyChristianity with its interest in demon- and Spirit-possession whichis exemplified many times in Acts. The ‘physical’ sense ofpossession is very striking in this passage.

A woman cries out to Jesus: ‘Happy the womb that carried you’(11.27–8). Jesus replied that happy are those who hear and keepthe word of God. This recalls earlier passages in the Gospel,notably the parable of the sower (especially 8.15) and of course 8.21 (‘My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word ofGod and act upon it’). The repetition of this theme in differentcontexts reinforces the message in the minds of the readers.

There is a return to the theme of judgment in 11.29–32 (cf. 10.12–15). Jesus picks up the narrator’s statement of 11.16 that thecrowd demand a sign. Jesus says that no sign will be given save‘the sign of Jonah’ (11.30). The primary reference is probably tothe preaching of Jonah which is mentioned in 11.32; but theMatthaean parallel (Matthew 12.38–42) understands ‘the sign ofJonah’ as the resurrection, the point of comparison being Jonah’swell-known sojourn in the belly of the whale. Matthew’s appearsto be a secondary interpretation, however ingenious it may be. Thesignificance of preaching in this context is shown by the referenceto the Queen of the South in 11.31: she came to hear Solomon,which leads Jesus to say of himself, ‘and what is here is greaterthan Solomon’ (11.31) ‘and Jonah’ (11.32). Jesus is the moreimportant figure because, in his ministry, the kingdom of God isbeing made present and the hopes of Israel realized. The sign ofJonah is followed by the sayings about the lamp and the lampstand(11.33–5; cf. 8.16) which remind readers not to be furtive abouttheir Christian commitment.

The rest of chapter 11 inveighs against the Pharisees and thelawyers (11.37–54). The narrative link is vague; a dinner party atthe house of a Pharisee (11.37). Jesus is rebuked for not washingbefore the meal (11.38). He replies with a diatribe—by no means


complimentary to his host—that the Pharisees are filthy withindespite their concern for ritual purity. 11.42 says they pay tithesbut neglect the weightier matters of justice and the love of God. Itis also said that they love public acclamation (11.43), that they areunmarked graves (11.44) and load people with intolerable burdens(11.46). They build monuments to the prophets (11.47) but thismerely testifies to the fact that they supported those who killedthem: ‘they committed the murders and you provide themonuments’ (11.48). This leads to a saying attributed to theWisdom of God: ‘I will send them prophets and messengers; andsome of these they will persecute and kill’ (11.49). That sayingconnects prophecy with suffering (Jesus himself is often called aprophet in Luke). Jesus continues by warning of their impendingpunishment: ‘this generation will have to answer for the blood of allthe prophets shed since the foundation of the world’ (11.50). Thethought is that the present generation will suffer because they arethe eschatological community. The chapter closes with criticismaimed at the lawyers (11.52) and the statement that the scribes andthe Pharisees try to trick Jesus with questions (11.53–4).

This portrait seems a harsh one but it is by no means so harsh asMatthew’s portrait of the Pharisees (see Matthew chapter 23). Luketones down Matthew’s material considerably. One wonders in factwhether the invective (11.37–46) is used to introduce thestatement about the murder of the prophets which occupies thecentral part of the diatribe. This is addressed not to the Phariseesbut to ‘this generation’ as a whole (11.50). 11.50 holds the Jewishnation collectively responsible for the fate of the prophets andimplies that their rejection of Jesus will bring eschatologicalretribution (cf. 20.14–16). We must also note passages in Lukewhere the Pharisees are presented in a quite different light (see 7.36–50; 13.31) so that Luke’s portrait of them is by no means harshand monolithic.

CHAPTER 12

The first section of chapter 12 also inveighs against the Pharisees(12.1–3). Jesus warns against their leaven, by which he means theleaven of hypocrisy. The nature of their hypocrisy is given by 11.37–43 which criticizes their concern for outward appearance butnot inward purity. This saying is followed by the familiar warning,‘there is nothing covered up that will not be uncovered’ (12.2).


This suggests that it too has a traditional nature and that Lukedoes not so much inveigh against the Pharisees as offer a generalwarning of the type we have met already in 8.16–17.

The rest of the chapter contains a further collection of sayings.These are placed together, often with no obvious connection.Those who argue for a sayings-source such as Q find their mostconvincing evidence here. The material makes a number of basicpoints about God. We read here both of his judgment (12.4–5, 8–10, 13–21) and of his providential care for his people (12.6–7, 11–12, 22–34). Much of this material has an eschatological reference.This is true of the saying about the Son of Man in 12.8–40 andespecially true of the parables of the wedding and the burglar in12.35–40 which end with the conclusion (which is clearlyapplicable to the readers): ‘Hold yourselves in readiness, becausethe Son of Man will come at the time you least expect him’ (12.40).

One wonders about how such material was used in the churcheswhich read Luke. The sayings are general and not situation-specific. This suggests that they were used as the spur forpreaching. They encourage particular patterns of behaviour, notleast eschatological preparedness. We can reconstruct a broadpicture of Luke’s demands by examining the material more closely.

The thought of 9.26, that whoever acknowledges Jesus will beacknowledged by the Son of Man before the angels, but thatwhoever disowns Jesus will be disowned by the heavenly mediator,is repeated in 12.8–9. This leads to the difficult saying aboutblasphemy against the Holy Spirit in 12.10. Jesus says thatblasphemy against the Son of Man can be forgiven but thatblasphemy against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven.‘Slandering the Holy Spirit’ presumably means denying that theSpirit is bringing in the kingdom of God (and thus that he ispresent in the ministry of Jesus and the early Christians).‘Blasphemy against the Son of Man’ probably denotes thatmisunderstanding of Jesus—revealed throughout the Gospel—which is the precursor to faith and which for that reason may notbe finally culpable. The converse is that a person ceases to beforgivable when he sets himself against God’s kingdom and refusesto accept that God is working through Jesus. This I think is thedifference between the two forms of blasphemy. 12.11–12elaborates the reference to the Spirit by promising that he willprovide Christians with suitable words when they are brought to


trial for their faith. This extends the possibility of ‘blaspheming theSpirit’ to the situation in which Luke’s readers find themselves,much as other passages make the disciples co-workers in themission of Jesus.

The next section concerns the place of property in the mind-setof the Christian (12.13–34). The introduction is a request fromsomeone in the crowd to arbitrate in a family dispute (12.13). ThisJesus refuses to do (12.14). There is a note of irony in hiscomment, ‘Who set me over you to judge or arbitrate?’ (12.14) forLuke reserves Jesus’ role as judge until his return from heaven (9.26; 12.9). There follows the parable of the rich man with the barn(12.16–21). This tells of the person who builds bigger barns tostore his grain but loses his life on the same day. On one level thisparable conveys the sense of moderation in ambition; but it offerseschatological paraenesis as well as proverbial wisdom. The reasonthat the man is foolish is because he has failed to perceive that histime is near. The parable prepares the way for the eschatologicalteaching imparted later in the chapter, especially the parable of theburgular, which recommends vigilance in the face of the end (12.39–40).

The parable of the rich man is appended with commentary.Jesus says that Christians are worth more than birds and that Godwill take care of them (12.22–6). They are in consequence not toset their minds on matters of food and drink (12.29–30) but on thekingdom of God (12.31). One detects here a further note ofhyperbole. 12.32–4 tells readers to sell their possessions and giveto the poor. The command for absolute poverty implants the needfor relative poverty in the minds of the readers.

Then, 12.35 moves the discussion explicitly to eschatology. Christians must be ‘ready for action’ with their ‘robes hitched

up’ and their lamps alight. Jesus tells the parable of the weddingparty in which the servants are uncertain about when their masterwill come (12.36). The meaning of the parable is that uncertaintyabout the return of Jesus does not mean that he will not return (cf.the parable of the absent king in chapter 19). He may come in themiddle of the night, or just before dawn (12.38). The point is thatat any rate he will come. This warning is given also by the parableof the burglar (12.39–40). If the householder had known when theburglar was coming, he would have prevented the burglary (12.39). Luke’s teaching about the future teaching is summarized inthe conclusion of this section: ‘Hold yourselves in readiness,


because the Son of Man will come at the time you least expecthim’ (12.40). The clear implication is that Jesus may return at anytime. Luke offers no support for the view that the return has beenpostponed to the indefinite future. Uncertainty prevails. The onlycertainty is that Jesus will indeed return.

The significance of the parable is reinforced by Peter’s questionin 12.41: ‘Lord, do you intend this parable specially for us or is itfor everyone?’ Jesus responds with another parable (12.42–6). Thisdeals with the question of stewardship and how an absent master’sproperty should be managed. The steward who is foundtrustworthy will be set over all the property but the recklesssteward will be punished when the master returns. Every reader isa steward. Through the Gospel, Jesus speaks even to those whowere not born when he died. ‘The master will arrive on a day whenthe servant does not expect him, at a time he has not been told’(12.46). Those who are found wanting will be punished. 12.47–8offers some casuistry about the punishment. The servant who didnot know what was required will be punished less severely thanthe servant who did. One wonders how precisely Luke expectedthis to happen; but he offers a commonsense approach to theproblem that reflects the usual conventions of justice.

12.49–53 is striking. Jesus says that he has come to set fire tothe earth (12.49), that he has a baptism to undergo (12.50) andthat he has come to bring dissension to the earth, not peace (12.51). The notion of setting fire recalls the request of James and Johnin 9.54. This passage answers what was left incomplete there. Lukesays that Jesus will indeed bring fire on earth but that he will notdo so until the final judgment. The ‘baptism’ of 12.50 is his death.This brings about the dissension mentioned in 12.51–3 wherefamily members are set against each other, for discipleship to Jesuscauses social divisions in the Jewish and Hellenistic world. Thestatement that Jesus has not come to ‘establish peace on earth’ (12.51) contrasts with what is said about the dawn of peace in theInfancy Narrative (e.g. 1.79; 2.14) and makes Christiandiscipleship no comfortable thing.

Chapter 12 ends with two eschatological warnings (12.54–6, 57–9). The first uses natural phenomena to predict that the end is near:‘you know how to interpret the appearance of earth and sky, butcannot interpret this fateful hour’ (12.56). 12.57–9 adds a warningabout punishment. People should settle their affairs on the way tocourt, otherwise they may find themselves in jail. They will not be


let out until they have paid the very last penny (12.59). Themeaning of this saying appears to be that people should settle theiraccounts with God (and with each other) before the last assize inorder to escape the just punishment for their misdeeds. Luke hasseveral other examples of such ‘worldly wisdom’ which give hisGospel a distinctive character (see especially 16.1–8).

CHAPTER 13

Chapter 13 is again an important one in terms of the Gospel’splot. It opens with a story about Pilate who had mingled the bloodof some Galileans with their sacrifices (i.e. killed them, 13.1–3).The point of the story is that those whom he treated unjustly werenot greater sinners than anyone else. Luke rejects the conclusionthat misfortune is necessarily a punishment for wrongdoing. Hisargument is reinforced by another example in 13.4: a naturaldisaster in which eighteen people were killed when a towercollapsed in Siloam. These people again are not said to be punishedfor specific misbehaviour. They were just unfortunate to be in thewrong place at the wrong time. Jesus concludes that all sin will bepunished and that the view which holds that only really badsinners suffer is wrong (13.5).

The theme of judgment is continued in the parable of the fig tree(13.6–9). Jesus tells the story of a tree which had failed to producefruit for three consecutive years. The owner is minded to destroy itbut is advised by the vine-dresser to leave it a further year fortending. If it fails to produce fruit then, the vine-dresser says that itcan be destroyed. The parable reminds readers to take stock oftheir behaviour while time remains. It hints that judgment is notfar away.

The reader has almost lost sight of the miracles of Jesus in thiswealth of teaching. Luke now describes how Jesus cures a womanwho had been possessed by a spirit for eighteen years (13.10–17).The president of the synagogue is indignant that Jesus should healher on the sabbath. Jesus replies by appealing to the Jewish principleof care for animals which over-rides the demands of the sabbath.This is used as an argument a fortiori to support Jesus’intervention on behalf of the woman who is both a human beingand what he calls a ‘daughter of Abraham’ (13.16). The conclusionof the miracle shows the confusion that surrounds Jesus because ofhis teaching and behaviour: his opponents were covered with


confusion but the people delighted with his deeds (13.17). Weshould remember that the formal moves to kill Jesus will not betaken until 19.47.

Two further parables of the kingdom are recorded in 13.18–21.The parables of the mustard seed and leaven show that thekingdom is growing and that it will soon be mature. For thekingdom to be growing means of course that it exists and ispresent already. This is a major theme in Luke. 13.19 commentson the spectacular results that will emerge from such hiddenorigins. It is a warning to readers not to mistake the delay in thekingdom’s manifestation as a sign that the kingdom will notappear. For this reason (13.22–4) people must strive to ‘enterthrough the narrow door’. The door is called ‘narrow’ becausethere were so many obstacles to being a Christian in the firstcentury CE.

In 13.25–30 Jesus speaks directly to the readers. He tells a parablein which someone knocks on the door of a house but is refusedadmission because his identity is unknown to the house-holder.Those who are refused entry protest: ‘We used to eat and drinkwith you, and you taught in our streets’ (13.26). The scarcelyveiled eucharistic reference in this verse shows that Christianprotestors must be meant. The offence of the protestors is notdescribed but evidently they are guilty of failing to do what Jesushas commanded (cf. 6.46). Luke warns that even the followers ofJesus may fail to meet the standards needed for final entry into thekingdom. He says that these people will wail and grind when theysee the blessed ones at the eschatological banquet (13.28–9). Thoseinvited to the banquet include people from all corners of the earth(Gentiles clearly among them) and sit at table with the patriarchs.There is a clue to the nature of the wrongdoing in 13.30 whichencapsulates a wider theme in the Gospel: ‘Some who are nowlast will be first, and some who are first will be last.’ This is thecall for humility and service as we have seen. The passage suggeststhat some of Luke’s readers were not doing all that they might tofoster the needs of others.

Some Pharisees warn Jesus that Herod wants to kill him (13.31–3). Here, they are presented in a good light, unlike their portrayalin chapters 11–12. The reference to Herod provides theintroduction for a critical speech by Jesus: ‘Go and tell that fox,Listen: today and tomorrow I shall be driving out demons andworking cures; on the third day I reach my goal. However, I must


go on my way today and tomorrow, because it is unthinkable for aprophet to meet his death anywhere but in Jerusalem’ (13.32–3).

The basis of this speech, with its reference to ‘three days’, is avaticinium ex eventu (or prophecy compiled in the light of events)which assigns to Jesus knowledge that presents him in control ofthe situation because of his foreknowledge of it (cf. 9.22). Jesussays that his goal is Jerusalem (cf. 9.51 and the Infancy Narrative).This is a declaration of intention as well as a geographicalindicator. Jesus says that ‘it is unthinkable for a prophet to meethis death anywhere but in Jerusalem’. He aligns himself with thetradition of prophetic rejection in Israel and states with grimhumour that in Jerusalem he must die because this is where all theprophets have perished. 13.34a is a lament over Jerusalem whichcalls the city: ‘the city that murders the prophets and stones themessengers sent to her’. There is good precedent for this statementin the Hebrew prophetic denunciations of the Jewish capital (seee.g. Jeremiah 4.14; 6.8; 13.27).

The second half of 13.34 reflects Christian sadness (and theproblem posed for evangelism) by the fact that the Jewish nationhad rejected the Messiah when he came to her: ‘How often have Ilonged to gather your children, as a hen gathers her brood underher wings; but you would not let me.’ This statement makes thegoal of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem the regathering of the twelvetribes which I have suggested must be seen in company with 22.30where Jesus states that the Twelve will sit on thrones and judge thetribes of Israel. The idea is that Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem helps tomake Israel what the Bible intends it should be. In his ministry therestoration has already begun. The leaders of the tribes are in placeand the Messiah is centre stage. Jesus longs for the kingdom to befully realized. The tragedy is that the tribes of Israel will choose toreject him. But the plot accommodates such exigencies. Lukeknows that, through the death of Jesus, God will indeed effect thereconstitution of Israel for Jesus’ death had effected a new covenant(22.20). The plot is full of paradoxes. The Jewish rejection ofJesus, lamented in 13.34, is made the means by which therestoration is secured.

The chapter concludes with a saying about the temple: There isyour temple, forsaken by God’ (13.35). I have argued that thisrepresents a denunciation by Jesus of the present temple in thehope that the eschatological temple will be revealed by God. Jesusis not just the critic of the present temple and the prophet of the


new temple but also the corner-stone of the new temple accordingto 20.17. The full significance of that criticism will be revealed asthe Gospel unfolds.

The second half of 13.35 incorporates a double entendre. Jesussays: ‘I tell you, you will not see me until the time comes when yousay, “Blessings on him who comes in the name of the Lord.”’ Thissaying looks forward to the triumphal entry (19.28–40). Thewords ‘blessings on him’ are a messianic acclamation. They derivefrom Psalm 118.26, which was used by pilgrims as they travelledto Jerusalem, and refer in their original setting to the Jewish king.Jesus tells Jerusalem that, when he enters the capital, itsinhabitants will acclaim him as Messiah. The description of Jesus’arrival in Jerusalem both fulfils and questions this prediction. Thepeople do acclaim Jesus in 19.36—but not much later they turnagainst him (23.13) so that their acclamation is at best atemporary one.

This makes it likely that there is a hint in 13.35b of Jesus’further visitation of Jerusalem when he will be universallyacknowledged as the Messiah. This will be at the moment of hisreturn from heaven (cf. 9.26). The thought stands close toRevelation 1.7a: ‘Look, he is coming with the clouds; everyone shallsee him, including those who pierced him’. It would be wrong toexclude this shade of meaning from the passage. Jesus predicts hisreturn from heaven in Luke.

CHAPTER 14

The end of chapter 13, 13.32–5, is a ‘purple passage’ among analmost rambling collection of sayings and miracles. The looserstyle is resumed in chapter 14 where we find further developmentof themes already presented, especially the Gospel’s interest ineschatology.

The chapter opens with another healing miracle (14.1–6). Thereader knows by now that the Pharisees will be watching Jesus (14.3) and that Jesus generally heals on the sabbath. The Pharisees fallsilent before his question of whether or not it is right for him to dothis (14.3). Jesus repeats the question of whether it is lawful tohelp an ox on the sabbath. He draws the unspoken conclusion, asbefore, that it is permissible to help humans for the same reason(14.5). The Pharisees can find no answer to this argument (14.6).


The next section is arranged around the theme of feasting. Jesusnotices guests trying to secure places of honour at a dinner-partyand tells the parable of the wedding feast (14.7–11). This explainsthat those who humble themselves will be honoured by the hostand vice versa. It develops the already-established theme ofhumility in Luke. The conclusion of the parable (14.12–14) showsthe humble behaviour Luke wants his readers to adopt. 14.13resembles 4.18–19 in its description of who should be invited to abanquet (‘the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind’). Theimprecise language permits a variety of interpretations. Generaland generous hospitality is certainly one of them. The eucharisticis another. Luke says that those who should be most honoured onthis occasion in the Christian community are those who mightotherwise be despised or rejected. Perhaps this is a criticism ofsocial distinctions in the readers’ community. We know from 1Corinthians 11.17–22 that the eucharist was the subject of abusein some churches. Perhaps the practices found there, where some—evidently the less powerful— went hungry explains why Lukewrites as he does. But we do not know enough about the actualcircumstances of the readers to speak with certainty on this point.

The parable of the great feast which the guests refuse to attendis narrated in 14.15–24. It is clear from the introduction that thisparable concerns the feast that will inaugurate the kingdom of God(cf. 13.29). The refusal of the guests makes the master of the housesend out his servants to invite ‘the poor, the crippled, the blind,and the lame’ (14.21). This phrase picks up 14.13 and of course 4.18–19. These people are included and the others excluded. Thosewho refuse present a variety of excuses. These are deliberatelylame to emphasize their stupidity and blatant rejection. Theparable ends with the statement that ‘not one of those who wereinvited shall taste my banquet’ (14.24). This is a commentary onthe future rejection by God of those who now reject what God isdoing through Jesus. It reminds the reader of what Jesus has saidabout future judgment in 13.25–30.

This parable is followed by further warnings about the cost ofdiscipleship. 14.26 repeats in a more intense form the thought of12.49–53 that discipleship means the loss of family ties. Luke saysthat people must hate their families to be disciples of Jesus. 14.28is a call to count the cost of discipleship which 14.33 relates to theChristian attitude towards possessions. Those who are notprepared to forsake everything cannot be disciples of Jesus. This


warning is reinforced in 14.34–5 by the saying about salt whichmakes anything but total commitment without value (and destinedfor rejection). One can only conclude from this passage that theactu ality fell short of the ideal in many cases.

CHAPTER 15

Chapter 15 contains some well-known parables of Jesus. It openswith the lost sheep (15.1–7) and the lost coin (15.8–10). Theseassert, notionally against the Pharisees and the scribes, that God isconcerned as much with the lost as with the righteous and that hewill go to great lengths to find them. Luke states that God doesnot want anyone to miss out. This is the other face ofeschatological punishment in the Gospel.

These parables are followed by the parable of the prodigal son(15.11–32). This is much longer but develops the same theme. Itsmessage is that even the person who deliberately rejects can beforgiven if he repents. This well-known parable describes how theprofligate son wastes his inheritance while his brother workssolidly and virtuously with his father. The younger brother runsout of money and tries to return as a labourer but is greeted andrestored by the father. This causes much anxiety to the olderbrother who complains that his loyalty had been in vain. Theinterest in recent interpretation of this parable has fallen on thesecond half where the brother is rebuked although he has donenothing wrong.6 The parable reminds readers that some of thosewho now reject the Gospel (including no doubt Jews) will beincluded in the kingdom. This must cause rejoicing and not angeramong those who have borne the cross for longer. There remainsthe warning of chapter 13 that some of those who are nowincluded may exclude themselves from the kingdom by reason oftheir behaviour. The kingdom’s boundaries are not fixed. Luke’sGod is a God of continual surprises.

CHAPTER 16

The beginning of chapter 16 narrates one of the mostextraordinary parables in the Gospels. Here we find Jesuscommending someone whose behaviour is shrewd but not strictlyhonest. The parable describes how a steward, asked by his masterto provide an account of his dealings, persuades the master’s debtors


to provide bills which show lesser amounts in the hope that one ofthem will employ him if his present employer sacks him. Theparable ends with the master commending the steward for a reasonthat is not easy to discern. We can hardly suppose that the mastercommends the steward for defrauding him! Perhaps this is becausethe dues are finally being paid, albeit at a lower level.

The narrator adds the worldly-wise comment that ‘in dealingwith their own kind the children of this world are more astute thanthe children of light’ (16.8). This parable cannot be told againstsuch an attitude (as some commentators would prefer) because 16.9 says that readers must ‘use their worldly wealth to win friends for[themselves]’ so that when money is a thing of the past they maybe received into an eternal home. This saying advocates thegenerosity extolled earlier in the Gospel and adds to it the promiseof eschatological reward. It is striking that the example used tosupport this demand should be that of the likeable rogue. This is aparticular feature of Luke’s narrative style with its eye for theunusual if not the comical. The unlikely hero of the parablecontinues to make a bold impression on the Christian imagination.

The parable is followed by two further interpretations (16.10–13). These are probably examples of the way in which the parablewas understood before the writing of the Gospel. The fact that wehave three such interpretations shows that Luke had greatdifficulty with the parable, as do many commentators today. 16.10–12 says that those who are trustworthy in small matters will betrustworthy in great ones and vice versa. Jesus uses this maxim tocontrast trustworthiness about ‘the wealth of this world’ and ‘thewealth that is real’ (clearly the riches of the kingdom of God).(This is a virtue which, it must be said, it is by no means obviousthat the parable actually supports.) 16.13 says that no-one cantrust two masters and contrasts God and Money in this respect.

The Pharisees scoff at Jesus because, as the narrator says againstthem, they ‘loved money’ (16.14). Luke is once again harsh in histreatment of the Pharisees: ‘You are the people who impressothers with your righteousness; but God sees through you.’ Thissaying is followed by a collection of other sayings. 16.16 reiteratesthe place of John the Baptist in the economy of salvation: The lawand the prophets were until John: since then, the good news of thekingdom is proclaimed, and everybody forces a way in.’ Thisstatement presents the ministry of Jesus as a new age because thekingdom of God has now arrived. John is ranked with earlier


Judaism because he (merely) heralded the kingdom. It is notimplied here that John is excluded from the kingdom (cf. 7.28). Heis presented as a transitional point in the history of salvation. Johnthe Baptist remains a significant figure for Luke and it is thenarrator, not the implied author, who modifies his position inrespect of Jesus. 16.16b states that people are so determined toenter the kingdom that they force their way in. Matthew has amuch more difficult version of this saying: ‘Since the time of Johnthe Baptist the kingdom of Heaven has been subjected to violenceand violent men are taking it by force’ (Matthew 11.12). Lukeapparently reworks Matthew to remove the reference to theviolent people.

It could be taken that 16.16 implies that the kingdom has madethe Law redundant for Christians but Luke swiftly counters thisimpression in what follows. 16.17 says that heaven and earth willmore easily pass away than one letter of the Law lose its force.This categorical statement introduces the saying about divorcewhich follows in 16.18. Here Jesus offers a more rigorous rulethan the Torah. Jewish law permitted divorce and remarriageprovided that the correct procedure was followed (seeDeuteronomy 24.1–4). Jesus does not criticize divorce as such buthe does criticize remarriage after divorce which he calls adultery.To preserve the flow of thought between 16.16 and 16.18 we mustassume that Jesus here intensifies the Mosaic commandment todemonstrate its abiding validity. Unless 16.17 is set aside (forwhich the text provides no evidence) Jesus does not forbid divorceas such (despite what is sometimes said in the commentaries). Hisprohibition of remarriage seems to be an eschatologicalintensification of Moses which works from the premise that thekingdom is nigh (cf. 1 Corinthians 7.10–11). It is Matthew whorestricts divorce when he allows it for sexual immorality alone(Matthew 5.32), as did the Shammaites against the Hillelites.

The parable of Dives and Lazarus (16.19–31) contrasts the stateof rich and poor at present and in the afterlife. Lazarus, the poorman, goes to Abraham’s bosom after death and the rich manhas torment in Hades. It is not said that this distinction resultsfrom their social status but it is at least implied that it reflects theirbehaviour. Hades in 16.23 is the intermediate state of the dead andnot the place of final punishment (cf. 16.9). This is true also of‘Abraham’s bosom’ (where the language is unusual and is nototherwise found in Luke). The parable clearly articulates the


resurrection hope on which Luke’s Gospel depends (16.31). Therich man asks that Lazarus bring a message about judgment to hisbrothers (16.27–8). This request is refused on the grounds that thebrothers have Moses and the prophets and that, if they will notbelieve these, they are unlikely to believe even if someone were torise from the dead (16.29–31). The point of this rebuttal is thatMoses and the prophets, when properly understood, speak aboutjudgment (and thus about Jesus) and that those who ignore themwill not heed the Christian preaching of judgment. The passageestablishes a continuity between the Hebrew Bible and thepreaching of Jesus. The Jewish scriptures have abiding validitybecause they bear testimony to the Christian dispensation.

CHAPTER 17

Chapter 17 continues the by now familiar mix of sayings, narrativeand parables. It opens with Jesus speaking about the causes ofstumbling (17.1–3a). He says that woe betide anyone who makes‘one of these little ones’ stumble. The ‘little ones’ are probablychildren (cf. 9.47–8) but the term is used also for the disciples inMatthew (10.42). This saying is accompanied by teaching aboutforgiveness in which it is said that a brother must be forgiven eachtime that he asks for forgiveness, even up to seven times a day (17.3b–4). Here we find the beginnings of a penitential system whichrecognizes that a single forgiveness may not be enough.

The next saying is a request for faith by the disciples, to whichJesus replies that faith as small as a mustard-seed is enough toaccomplish great tasks (17.5–6; cf. 13.19). We are reminded hereof the seed growing secretly which is a parable of the kingdom ofGod (13.18–19). Next, the parable of the dutiful servant (17.7–10)who is told to wait at table and who eats his meal only after hismaster has finished. Luke uses this parable to tell readers that, intheir Christian service, they are doing a duty and not somethingexceptionally virtuous. Here is another clue to reconstruct theidentity of the implied readers and the message the author wantsthem to hear.

They are people who need reminding about service and whomay have presumed on their status to deny the rights of others.

Jesus enters a village and is met by ten men with leprosy (17.11–19). He tells them to show themselves to the priest, the traditionalcertification of a cure (cf. 5.14). As they do so they are healed.


Only one returns to thank Jesus. He is a Samaritan (cf. 10.33).Jesus marvels that a foreigner should thank him in this way. Thisimplies that the Jewish lepers have failed to appreciate what wasdone for them. The conclusion of the miracle states that the man’sfaith has made him whole (17.19; cf. 7.50). This story is anexcellent example of the use of repetition in Luke’s narrativemethod. It recalls several earlier healing stories to reinforce theimportance of faith in the performance of the miracle. Luke saysthat all people come to Jesus on the basis of faith regardless ofethnic origin. This is evidence that Luke was written for readersfor whom this point was relevant (and thus presumably for GentileChristians).

The Pharisees appear again (17.20–1). They ask Jesus when thekingdom of God will come, to which he replies that its arrivalcannot be discerned by observation. This is because ‘the kingdomof God is among you!’ (17.21). Some commentators, observingthat the Greek word translated ‘among’ can also mean ‘within’,suggest that Luke presents the kingdom as an internal andprimarily an ethical concern. The rest of Luke makes thisconclusion unlikely. Jesus constantly speaks about the kingdom asan external and eschatological reality that is already present in hisministry. It would be surprising if his view were changed herewithout textual indication. The most obvious reason that thekingdom cannot be discerned by human observation is because itis here already. There is perhaps also the hint that the attempt toplace a precise time-scale on the return of Jesus is futile because thecompletion of the kingdom is equally indiscernible.

The next section explicitly discusses this problem (17.22–5).Jesus says that the disciples will long to ‘see one of the days of theSon of Man’ but that they will not see it (17.23; cf. 21.9). Thisexplains that the delayed return of Jesus does not mean that theeschatological hope is redundant. People will say ‘here it is’ and‘there it is’ but they will be wrong (17.23). But for sure, at anindeterminable time, ‘like a lightning flash, that lights up the earthfrom end to end, will the Son of Man be in his day’ (17.24). TheSon of Man will suddenly appear from heaven and then he willbe perceived by all. Before this he must ‘endure much suffering andbe rejected by this generation’ (17.25; cf. the imprecision of 9.44).Here, Luke prescribes certain eschatological conditions as he willdo in chapter 21. Significantly, only in fact the prediction of 17.24(‘like a lightning flash…’) of the list presented here remains to be


fulfilled. This implies that the Son of Man might arrive at anymoment so that the theme of eschatological imminence is implicitlyforegrounded here.

The rest of the chapter offers more eschatological teaching. 17.26–7 compares the ‘days of the Son of Man’ to the time of Noah.People ate, drank and married—but were suddenly covered by theFlood. So it will be when the Son of Man appears. 17.28–9reinforces this warning with the example of Lot. People behaved asthey pleased until fire and brimstone fell from heaven. Luke usesthis biblical material in a typological way to insist that the samethings will happen when the Son of Man is revealed. The presentcontinuity of the world order must not lull readers into a falsesense of security that the judgment will not happen (cf. Jude 5–6; 2Peter 2.3–9). There will be a time of punishment when, it isimplied by the biblical analogies, those who are found wantingwill be destroyed.

The nature of the eschatological punishment is described inpictorial form by 17.31–7. It will occur suddenly while everydaythings are being done (17.31–3). Two people will be lying in bedor grinding corn. One will be taken and the other left (17.34–6).This process seems arbitrary but that is not the principal point ofthe allusion. The thrust is that the judgment will intervenesuddenly into everyday life. This passage is a good example ofwhat first-century Christianity believed about the suddenness ofthe return of Jesus from heaven and the all-embracing nature of itseffects. They really did believe that judgment was a threateningthing. The chapter closes menacingly with the saying, ‘Where thecarcass is, there will the vultures gather’ (17.37). The judgmentwill show no mercy, as Luke has implied already (see especially 13.25–30).

CHAPTER 18

Chapter 18 is a collection of sayings, parables and miracles. Itbegins with the parable of the insistent woman who pesters thejudge until she is given justice (18.1–8; cf. 11.5–10). On the face ofit this parable concerns prayer, but the conclusion reveals aclose link with the preceding material about eschatology (‘Butwhen the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?’, 18.8).This phrase takes the reader back to the second petition of the


Lord’s Prayer (11.2) which is a prayer for the coming of thekingdom.

There follows the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector(18.9–14). Both men go to the temple to pray. The Pharisee thanksGod for his righteousness. The tax collector can scarcely apologizefor his sin. Jesus says that it is the tax collector and not thePharisee who goes home justified (18.14). The parabledemonstrates the virtue of humility which is always linked with the(eschatological) offer of forgiveness in Luke.

To this is linked to the story of Jesus blessing babies (18.15–17).The disciples try to prevent this but are rebuked because ‘whoeverdoes not accept the kingdom of God like a child will never enter it’(18.17). This again is a call for an unhesitating acceptance. Itagrees with the attitude of the tax collector in the precedingparable and shows the radical humility needed to enter thekingdom.

The next parable tells the story of the rich young ruler (18.18–26). This sincere young man wants to gain ‘eternal life’ (18.18).Jesus tells him to keep the Ten Commandments. He replies that hehas always done this. Jesus then tells him to sell all that he has andgive to the poor. His heart sinks ‘for he was a very rich man’ (18.23). This leads to the statement that it is hard for rich people toenter the kingdom (18.23) and the equally enigmatic ‘what isimpossible for men is possible for God’ in response to thedisciples’ question about who can be saved (18.26). The passagemust be seen in the context of the Christian ethical tradition(inherited from Judaism) where the love of money was regarded asa vice (see 1 Timothy 6.10). Peter asks about the disciples (18.28–30). He is assured that those who had left homes and families willbe ‘repaid many times over in this age, and in the age to come haveeternal life’ (18.30). It is rather difficult to know what is meant bythe statement about repayment ‘in this age’ but this is perhapsbound up with Jesus’ transformative view of the present orderwhich we shall consider in Chapter 5. The saying embodies thesuggestion that effort will be rewarded and not subsumed by thetotalistic demands of an overlord. Luke leaves the sayingunappended by commentary as if he, like us, found difficulties withit.

Jesus now for the third time predicts his suffering in Jerusalem(18.31–4). The prediction again has the air of deliberateness: ‘Weare now going up to Jerusalem; and everything that was written


by the prophets will find its fulfilment in the Son of Man’ (18.31).Luke does not say which prophets he has in mind nor how theirprophecy will be fulfilled in the death of Jesus. Perhaps thecombined witness of the prophets is meant and a christologicalinterpretation of them implied. 18.32–3 continues to present Jesusin control of the situation. 18.34 says of his followers that ‘theydid not understand this at all or grasp what he was talking about;its meaning was concealed from them’. There is an element ofirony here which matches that in chapter 9- Readers know thatJesus suffered and died in Jerusalem. They have knowledge whichtranscends that of the original characters whose misunderstandingof Jesus is a constant theme in Luke. Yet the narrator’s comment isalso made against the readers (evidently unbeknown to the narrator,who to this extent speaks against himself). Luke subtly indicatesthat there is an aspect of the passion of Jesus which they havefailed to understand. This is that Christian discipleship means theservice of others and that only this pattern conforms to the careerof Jesus (cf. 9.23).

The passion predictions thus work on more than one level inLuke. They predict what will happen to Jesus and expose thedisciples’ misunderstanding of this event. But they also speakdirectly to the readers and remind them there is something whichthey need to learn from the knowledge which the author shareswith them. The concluding statement, ‘its meaning was concealedfrom them’, is a warning to readers not to fall into the same trapas the characters who fail to understand the meaning of thesuffering of Jesus.

As Jesus approaches Jericho a blind beggar calls out to him, ‘Sonof David, have pity on me’ (18.35–43). The crowd tell him to bequiet but the man persists in his request. Jesus orders that he befetched. His sight is restored. Jesus refers the miracle to the man’sfaith (18.42). That the blind man calls Jesus here ‘Son of David’anticipates the important statement by Jesus about David’s Sonand Lord which follows in 20.41–4.

CHAPTER 19

Chapter 19 begins the moves towards the death of Jesus. It openswith the story of Zacchaeus, the little tax collector who climbs thetree to see Jesus (19.1–10). Jesus calls him down and says that hewill stay at his house. People complain that Jesus is the guest of a


sinner but the request makes a profound impression onZacchaeus. He offers to give half his possessions to the poor and torepay four-fold everyone whom he has defrauded (19.8). Jesusappends the comment: ‘Today salvation has come to this house—for this man too is a son of Abraham’ (19.9). This statementacknowledges that salvation, like the kingdom of God, is a presentreality. There is perhaps a deliberate interplay between the phrase‘son of Abraham’ here (cf. 13.16) and ‘Son of David’ in 18.37–8.The point is that not all Jews reject Jesus, as is demonstrated bythe ‘fruits’ which Zacchaeus bore (cf. 3.9).

The next section (19.11–27) is again significant for the plot. It isthe parable of the absent king which the narrator introduces in thefollowing way: ‘[Jesus] went on to tell them a parable, because hewas now close to Jerusalem and they thought the kingdom of Godmight dawn at any moment’ (19.11). The narrator here denies thatthe kingdom of God will appear when Jesus gets to Jerusalem.Readers already know that the kingdom of God is present buthidden (17.20–1 et al.). 19.11 must therefore involve the denialthat Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem will mean the full revelation of thekingdom of God (which the Gospel implies will involve therestoration of the twelve tribes and the replacement of the presenttemple). This is because the dawning of the kingdom is connectedwith the return of Jesus ‘as king’ (19.15) and it is clear in Lukethat, although Jesus dies as king of the Jews, he is not universallyperceived as Messiah. 19.11 anticipates Jesus’ future rule whenthis earlier misunderstanding and rejection would be overcome.

This parable is certainly related to the theme of the return ofJesus, as its introduction indicates. The chieftain is called ‘a man ofnoble birth’ before his departure. He goes on a long journey ‘tohave himself appointed king and then return’ (19.12). Theparallels with Jesus are impossible to miss. It is through his deaththat Jesus thinks that he passes to his Messiahship so that hisinstallation as Messiah, as Luke understands it, takes place in theheavenly world (‘abroad’). This is why the ascension is such animportant theme in Luke (cf. Acts 2.36). The parable is addressedto the servants of Jesus in the period of his absence. The noblemangives them a sum of money to invest while he is away (19.13). 19.14 mentions rejection of Jesus: ‘His fellow-citizens hated him andsent a delegation after him to say, “We do not want this man asour king” ’ (cf. 23.2 where the Jewish leaders tell Pilate that Jesus‘claimed to be Messiah, a king’). The man however returns as king


to call his servants to account (19.15). Those who have done wellare rewarded. The over-cautious investor, who has done nothingwith his money, is punished and his sum given to the person whoproduced the best result. The parable ends with the comment that:‘everyone who has will be given more; but whoever has nothingwill forfeit even what he has’ (19.26). It is addressed to people whoneed reminding that the owner’s continuing absence means neitherthat he will fail to return nor that his return will prove easy forthose who had failed to do what they should (witness the constantlinks between eschatology and ethics in Luke).

After this parable ‘Jesus set out on the ascent to Jerusalem’ (19.28). This sets the scene for the triumphal entry (19.28–40; cf. 13.35). Technically, Jesus does not enter the city until 19.45. What isdescribed here is the ascent or approach to Jerusalem. Thecentrepiece of the story is the description of Jesus riding on a colt(19.35). It seems likely that this recalls Zechariah 9.9 (‘See, yourking is coming to you, his cause won, his victory gained, humble,and mounted on a donkey, on a colt, the foal of a donkey’).Matthew (21.4–5) explicitly links the colt with that passage. Wecan hardly deny that Luke is aware of this identification even if hedoes not cite Zechariah. The implied link makes Jesus’ arrival amessianic one for Zechariah uses the words ‘your king’ in hisdescription (cf. Luke 19.38). Jesus for Luke approaches Jerusalemas king. The disciples acknowledge this in 19.38: ‘Blessed is hewho comes as king in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, gloryin highest heaven!’ The phrase ‘as king’ is added to the citation toemphasize it in the wake of 13.35b. The addition of the words,‘Peace in heaven, glory in highest heaven’ (19.38b), recalls theangelic chorus of 2.14 which follows the identification of Jesus asMessiah in 2.11 to place this point beyond doubt. The peculiarstory about how Jesus knew where the colt was tethered, and gaveinstructions for its collection, demonstrates his authority overevents which will be a major theme of the trial narrative (19.28–34).

The triumphal entry does not meet with universal approval. In19.39 some Pharisees tell Jesus to restrain his disciples. He replies:‘If my disciples are silent the stones will shout aloud’ (19.40). Thissaying alludes to Habakkuk 2.11 (‘the stones will cry out from thewall, and from the timbers a beam will answer them’). It impliesthat, if people fail to understand the true significance of what they


see, the very stones would proclaim it. This anticipates 20.17where Jesus is made the corner-stone of the new temple.

Jesus’ first sight of Jerusalem and how he weeps over the cityis described in 19.41–4 (cf. 13.34). 19.42–3 implies that, ifJerusalem had known the way that led to peace (cf. 1.79; 2.14), nodisaster such as 70 CE would have overtaken it. As it was,Jerusalem had opened the door to her own destruction (19.43–4).Her destroyers ‘will not leave one stone standing on another’.Jesus says this is because Jerusalem has failed to ‘recognize thetime of God’s visitation’ (19.44). This makes the events of 70 CE adivine punishment for the Jewish rejection of Jesus (cf. 21.20). Wehave seen that the saying must be carefully distinguished from whatJesus says about the destruction of the temple (13.35; 21.6), whichis far from punitive in character. The passage implies that thedivine punishment of Jerusalem was complete from the perspectiveof Luke’s readers. The destruction of the temple, by contrast, isstill a future event.

In 19.45–6 Jesus enters Jerusalem and goes immediately to thetemple. There follows the cleansing of the temple. Jesus drives thetraders from the temple with the words, ‘Scripture says, “Myhouse shall be a house of prayer”, but you have made it a bandits’cave’ (19.46). In Chapter 2 I explained that this incident isessentially ambiguous and that its meaning must be reconstructedfrom the text by the reader. It might mean that Jesus is purifyingthe temple by driving out the corrupt traders. It more likely has aneschatological significance in the words used in 19.46, which recallthe prophecies of Isaiah and Jeremiah. On this view Jesus criticizesthose who place their confidence in the present temple andanticipates the time when purified worship will be offered in thenew temple. When 19.45–6 is read in the light of 13.35 and 20.17,it seems that Jesus may be giving a symbolic demonstration of thepresent temple’s destruction in order that it can be replaced withthe eschatological temple by God. But the cleansing of the templeis an enigmatic story in Luke and it would be unwise to ignore thedifferent shades of meaning that can be gleaned from it.

This incident, and the teaching which follows, leads directly tothe decision that Jesus must die: ‘Day by day he taught in thetemple. The chief priests and scribes, with the support of theleading citizens, wanted to bring about his death’ (19.47). Lukedoes not tell us the offensive content of Jesus’ preaching but theparable of the vineyard implies that the cause of offence is his


criticism of the present temple and its guardians. The narrativecertainly suggests that the teaching is related in some way to whatJesus does in the temple in 19.45–6 as if both his teaching and hisbehaviour are responsible for the events that lead to his death.

CHAPTER 20

Chapter 20 describes four test-questions put to Jesus and hissuccessful handling of them. 20.1–8 concerns the authority ofJesus (immediately after his action in the temple). The same peoplewho decide on his death in 19.47 ask him about his authority in20.2. Jesus replies with a question about the authority of John theBaptist. Was John’s baptism from God or from men?, he asks (20.4). Jesus holds the trump cards in this exchange. His questionturns the focus of the dispute and confounds his opponents (20.5–6). They recognize that, if they say John’s baptism was from God,this will highlight their disbelief of John. But if they answer that itcame from men, that will outrage the people who revered John asa prophet (20.6). These are the (only) options which the storypermits. The interlocutors reply that they cannot answer Jesus’question (20.7). This allows Jesus in turn not to answer theirs (20.8). The implication of the story is that Jesus’ authority, like John’s,comes from God. The reader infers this conclusion from the text.The statement that Jesus confounds his opponents is reinforced bythe structure of the story which shows they are unable to criticizehim.

The parable of the vineyard (20.9–16a) also demonstrates theauthority of Jesus. Jesus explains how a man let out his vineyard totenants and sent his messengers to collect the tithe. All the servantsare mistreated and the rent refused. Finally, the owner sends hisson in the belief that he will command respect from the tenants.This proves not to be the case. The tenants kill the son and thinkthey will thereby gain the vineyard for themselves. Their act,however, brings swift retribution from the owner. He comes inperson to kill the tenants and to let the vineyard out to others.

We saw in Chapter 2 that this parable makes good sense if it isseen as a parable about the temple. This interpretation avoidssome of the exegetical problems which arise when the vineyard isreferred to Israel. In this case the parable refers directly back to 19.45–7. The messengers are the prophets. The final messenger is ‘thebeloved Son’ (20.13), i.e. the Messiah. The tenants decide to kill the


Son because he represents a threat to the temple to which theycling. They think that they will thereby secure the future of thepresent temple. Ironically, in doing this, they secure the destructionof the holy city, as Luke explains in 19.41–4, and prevent theappearance of the eschatological temple. Luke goes on to assertthat God will still introduce the eschatological temple of which themain corner-stone is Jesus himself (20.17). The death of Jesus,paradoxically, had aided and not thwarted the divine purpose inthis way.

The parable ends with the scriptural citation: ‘The stone whichthe builders rejected has become the main corner-stone….Everyone who falls on that stone will be dashed to pieces; anyoneon whom it falls will be crushed’ (20.17–18). Its source is a fusionof Psalms 118.22 and Isaiah 8.14–15 concerning the Lord ofhosts: ‘The stone which the builders rejected has become the maincornerstone. He will become a snare, an obstacle, and a rock againstwhich the two houses of Israel will strike and stumble…. Manywill stumble and fall and suffer injury’ (Isaiah 8). The corner-stonein Jewish buildings was the main stone which held the edificetogether. The citation states that Jesus, although rejected by theJews, has become the key to God’s dealings with the nation. If theparable of the vineyard refers to the earthly temple, to which theJewish authorities vainly cling, it is natural that 20.17 should referto Jesus as the corner-stone of the eschatological temple. The twotemples starkly contrast with each other. Beneath the contretempsbetween Jesus and the authorities lies the evanescence of thepresent temple and the promise of its eschatological replacement.If this reading of 20.17 is correct, the corner-stone of theeschatological temple, like the kingdom of God, is present alreadyand standing on the site of the present temple. The Jews stumbleon Jesus when they fail to perceive his true significance. Thismeans that they put themselves in a position where they are unableto receive the eschatological benefits.

This is why, in 20.18–19, it is said that the scribes and chiefpriests want to seize Jesus straight away. They perceived that theparable is told against them: ‘but they were afraid because of thepeople’ (20.19). The repetition of the threat to kill Jesus confirmsthat 19.45–6 and the parable of the vineyard have the same theme.20.20 describes the strategy which his opponents adopt to trapJesus. They send ‘agents in the guise of honest men’ to seize onsome word of his which can be used as a pretext to hand him to


the Romans. These agents ask whether or not it is lawful to paytaxes to the Romans (20.21–6). Jesus asks whose inscription is onthe local coinage. On being told, ‘Caesar’s’, he replies: ‘Pay toCaesar what belongs to Caesar, and to God what belongs to God’(20.25). This is essentially a compromise ethic, evidently becauseJesus believes that a complete reordering of society is imminentand that the reordering is God’s task and not his. Jesus also breaksdown the binary opposition between God and Caesar and rejectsthe possibility that the question can easily be posed in suchpolarized terms (in a way that is most significant for subsequentChristian ethical reflection).

Next the Sadducees step forward with a question (20.27–38). Itis a complicated one about the resurrection. It depends on theprinciple, set down in Deuteronomy 25.5 and Genesis 38.8, that awidow may not marry outside her husband’s family and that abrother must do his duty to his sister-in-law if a man dies childless(the so-called principle of ‘levirate marriage’). The Sadducees posita case in which a man dies childless. His seven brothers stepforward in turn but none produces an heir. Whose wife, they ask,will the woman be in the resurrection? (20.33). The question is anuanced one because the Sadducees did not believe in theresurrection. The question is thus as much about the plausibility ofbelief in the resurrection (which for Luke means first and foremostthe resurrection of Jesus) as about legal principles. Jesus upholdsthe validity of belief in the resurrection—the reader knows thisalready from 16.31 —but characteristically turns the situationback on his questioners. He states that marital relations will beirrelevant in the resurrection life and adds the comment that theresurrected will be like angels (20.36). This presents theresurrection as a completely different order of existence andimplies that sexual relations, and possibly even genderdifferentials, will be superseded at that time. Belief in theresurrection is supported from scriptural evidence so that Jesuspronounces the Sadducees’ view invalid exegetically. It is not saidhow this view of the resurrection coheres with the wider picture ofthe kingdom of God. We should doubtless exercise the greatestcaution in attempting to deduce a clear understanding from thispassage.

The role of questioner now shifts to Jesus. Nobody ‘dared to putany further question to him’ (20.40)—clearly because they hadbeen unable to catch him out—but Jesus asks them a question


about the status of the Messiah (20.41–4). How can people say theMessiah is David’s Son, he asks, when David calls him ‘Lord’ (inthe text of Psalm 110.1)? Luke again teases with parallelism. Jesusis like David (this has been said in 6.3) but unlike David (here).The point at stake is that Jesus as Messiah is not only descendedfrom David but also David’s Lord because he is a divine being.Jesus again avoids calling himself Messiah, which he will not dountil 24.26, but he does criticize the view that the Messiah is(merely) a human being. The Messiah for Luke is the resurrectedand enthroned Jesus who will soon return to earth.

The second half of the citation of Psalm 110.1 (20.43) hints thatJesus will remain enthroned in heaven until his enemies have beenmade his footstool. Here, Luke provides an explanation of sortsfor his delayed return. In Luke’s view God’s kingdom isprogressively displacing the kingdom of Satan. Part of this task forLuke involves the carrying of the Gospel throughout the Gentileworld. This is why it is important that Paul should preach theGospel in Rome. That Rome is evangelized at the end of Acts is asign, alongside others in the Gospel, that the situation anticipatedby 20.43 is nearing fulfilment. We should link this with Acts 7.56where Jesus rises from his throne as if to emphasize the nearness ofhis return.

The chapter concludes by criticizing the scribes (20.45–7). Thescribes (but never the Pharisees; cf. 13.31) take an active part inthe moves against Jesus. They are presented here as pompous,unscrupulous people who will most certainly be judged for theirwrongdoing.

CHAPTER 21

Chapter 21 contains further eschatological teaching on the part ofJesus. This part of the Gospel has sometimes been called TheSynoptic Apocalypse’ but it does not display many typical featuresof an apocalypse and for that reason it is better called an‘eschatological discourse’. This discourse presents the signs of theend — most of which in Luke’s view have been accomplished—andanticipates the sudden appearance of the Son of Man from heaven(21.27) to effect the ‘liberation’ of Israel (21.28; cf. 2.38). Theemphasis on fulfilment is the crucial feature of this chapter. Itoffers reassurance about the coming of the Son of Man—the yet-to-


be-fulfilled aspect of eschatology—and presents other informationalmost as a guarantee that this event will happen.

The chapter is introduced by the story of the widow’s mite (21.1–4). This has relevance because it is a story about the temple andbecause it contrasts with the attitude of the scribes (‘they eat upthe property of widows’) whom Luke has just criticized. In 21.5some people are talking about the temple and admiring its stonesand ornaments. Jesus warns of a time when the stones of thetemple will be thrown to the ground (21.6). This provides the cuefor the disciples to ask when this will be, which in turn providesthe rather artificial introduction to the rest of the chapter. I arguedin Chapter 2 that 21.6 must be identified with 21.27 as anindication of what will happen at the climax of the eschatologicalprocess.

As with Paul’s teaching in 2 Thessalonians chapter 2, which (ifgenuine) was written a generation earlier than Luke, the purposeof Luke 21 is to specify the events that precede the end. TheThessalonian correspondence was written to people who thoughtthe consummation of eschatology imminent; Luke is written forreaders for whom its delay is a worrying thing. There is someevidence of a progress of thought in Luke 21 but it is wrong toexpect a full consistency of the material. Luke does not so muchprovide a systematic scheme of eschatology as specify events in aquite symbolic way. The message of the chapter is that the Son ofMan will return (21.27) despite the substantial period which hasintervened.

The first stage in the eschatological process is described by 21.12–19. Jesus says that Christians will be handed over tosynagogues and thrown into prison, even hauled before kings andgovernors for their faith in him (21.12). Yet they will be given thewords to speak on these occasions (21.13–15). This happensbecause Christian faith means the disruption of family ties,including the betrayal of one family member by another (21.16; cf.12.49–53). The Christians will be universally hated for their beliefs(21.17) but not a hair of their heads would be harmed (21.18). Ifthey stand fast they will gain life (21.19). Much of what is saidhere is fulfilled in Acts. In Acts Christians are hauled before theJewish authorities (e.g. Acts 4.5–12). On more than one occasionPaul makes his case before a Roman official (see Acts 24; 25), andbefore King Agrippa (Acts 26). The Holy Spirit speaks through themouth of Peter (Acts 4.8), and the other apostles. The statement


about not a hair of their heads being harmed is repeated in Acts 27.34. These parallels with Acts, which demonstrate that what Jesussays has come true, show that the theme of eschatologicalfulfilment is on Luke’s mind in his work.

The next stage in the eschatological process is given by 21.8–11.This passage predicts the advent of false Messiahs (21.8) andmentions rumours of warfare and their fulfilment (21.9–10). Jesussays that there will be earthquakes, famines and plagues in manyplaces (21.11). This information is sufficiently general to permit ofmany applications. There were indeed other messianic claimants inthe first century (see Acts 5.36–7). The First Jewish Revolt,which culminated in the Roman destruction of Jerusalem in 70CE, was certainly an act of warfare. The reference to earthquakes,famines and plagues (21.11) can be paralleled in a variety ofprophetic and apocalyptic literature, so that Luke’s language isquite traditional at this point. He is harnessing wider material tosupport his own distinctive portrait of the end.

At some point in the process—and the time-scale lacks precision—Jerusalem will be encircled by armies and the time of herdevastation arrive (21.20). This material is peculiar to the Lucanversion of the eschatological discourse. The prediction lends a noteof inevitability to what happened in 70 CE. This was past historyfor the readers; 21.20 (along with earlier passages) is a clearreference to the Roman destruction of Jerusalem. It sets the Gospelafter that date. For Luke, 70 CE signified the ‘time of retributionwhen all that stands written is to be fulfilled’ (21.22). The authorsees this event as divinely willed punishment for the Jewishrejection of Jesus. In the terms set out by 13.34 the punishment wasdue also for their murder of the prophets; 21.22 looks back in ageneral sense to Hebrew prophecy and calls to mind its wide-ranging criticism of the Jewish nation. This was the time when‘this generation [answered] for the blood of all the prophets shedsince the foundation of the world’ (11.50). Luke adds thatJerusalem will be ‘trampled underfoot by the Gentiles’ until theGentiles have run their course (21.24). Everything up to this pointin chapter 21 is past history for the readers. The passage states,quite strikingly, that the punishment of Judaism has already beencompleted. The way is now open for her eschatologicalreconstitution which is the major theme of the Gospel.

Genuine prediction of the future begins in 21.25–7. Thediscernible shift from historical review to actual prophecy at this


point indicates that the only events yet to be fulfilled in thechapter’s scheme of things are the specific events of the end. Jesussays that portents will appear in the heavens (21.25) and that thecelestial powers will be shaken (21.26). Then people will see theSon of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory (21.27).The direction of his movement will be from heaven to earth (andnot towards the Ancient of Days in heaven, as it is in Daniel 7.13–14, which resources this passage). The fact that the Son of Mancomes ‘with power and great glory’ means that he acts with theauthority of God himself in effecting the eschatological climax. Hiscoming will be for judgment. It is implied that the kingdom of Godwill be made fully present at that time.

The chapter concludes (21.28–32) with a series of sayings aboutthe nearness of the end. 21.28 says that, when ‘all of this begins tohappen, stand upright and hold your heads high, because yourliberation is near’. The word ‘liberation’ recalls 2.38; the passageimplies that Israel’s restoration is near. 21.29–31 records theparable of the fig tree. Jesus says that the budding of the treemeans that summer is nigh (21.30). This interpretation of thisparable leads to the conclusion that ‘the kingdom of God is near’(21.31). Jesus adds that ‘the present generation will live to see itall’ (21.32; cf. 9.27). Luke would surely have removed this passagehad he not thought the imminent climax of eschatology a realisticpossibility. It does appear to place a temporal limitation on thekingdom’s full appearance (particularly when we consider thatLuke was not written until perhaps c. 90 CE). 21.33 enigmaticallyanticipates the renewal of the created order in language that is notdissimilar to Revelation 21 (cf. Romans 8.18–25). Jesus uses thestatement ‘heaven and earth will pass away’ to make the point thathis words are absolutely true.

The chapter closes with ethical exhortation which is directlyrelated to the eschatological promise (21.34–6). This passage showsaffinities to other New Testament paraenesis (e.g. 1 Thessalonians5.1–12). That encourages the conclusion that Luke is drawing on awider exhortatory pattern. Luke tells his readers to be alert in viewof the imminent end. They must pray for the strength to passthrough the trials and to stand ‘in the presence of the Son of Man’(21.36). This is the moment to which Luke’s eschatology looksforward.


CHAPTER 22

Chapter 22 tells the story of the Last Supper (22.1–37). From nowon the narrative is more connected than in the central section ofthe Gospel. Many people think that this is because Luke is drawingon a source or sources at this point but this hypothesis must not beallowed to obscure Luke’s creativity as an Evangelist. Since hisaccount of the trial is significantly different from Mark andMatthew’s, and then again from John’s, we have no exact way oftelling how far Luke used sources and where his own insertions lie.Luke’s trial narrative shows that he is capable of writing a storywhich reads interestingly and well. This is the criterion by whichhis narrative ability should be judged.

Chapter 22 opens with the statement that the Passover isdrawing near and that the chief priests and scribes are trying to doaway with Jesus (22.2). 22.3 states that ‘Satan entered into Judas’.This brings the battle between the kingdoms of God and Satan toits climax as Satan tries to do away with the representative of theformer. This passage sets the drama which follows in a particularlight. The conspiracy between the Jews and the Romans againstJesus is at one and the same time the battle-ground between Godand Satan. This explains why Jesus is consistently in control of thesituation, against the flow of the story. This is because he is thedivine representative who acts with the power of God. There is asubstantial irony in the fact that Jesus is crucified, and Satanostensibly wins, but that Jesus is shown to be the Lord andMessiah so that his death is not at all the defeat that it seems. Lukemakes it a necessary stage in the eschatological process so that thetragedy has an unexpected outcome.

Judas goes to the chief priests and temple guards to discuss howto betray Jesus (22.3–6). The story implies that Judas is needed toenable the arrest of Jesus apart from the crowds who idolized him(see 22.6). It has been suggested that this may not have been hisfunction in the actual (i.e. historical) betrayal of Jesus.7

The preparations for the Passover are described in 22.7–13.They recall the triumphal entry. Once again the disciples are metby a stranger who provides something of use to Jesus. Jesus’knowledge again confirms that he is fully in control of thesituation. Commentators have discussed at length the question ofwhether the Last Supper is a Passover meal. Luke certainly saysthat it is (22.7, 15). This allows him to present the death of Jesus


in sacrificial terms according to the symbolism of the festival. ThePassover looks back to the time when the people of Israel weremiraculously delivered from Egypt. Luke identifies Jesus with thesacrificial lamb when he makes the bread and the wine symbolizehis own body and blood.

The Passover serves as the occasion for Jesus to tell the disciplesabout his death. 22.16 sets the meaning on the meal: ‘Never againshall I eat it [i.e. the bread] until the time when it finds itsfulfilment in the kingdom of God.’ This makes the Last Supperalso symbolize the kingdom’s inaugural banquet. It looks forwardto the time when the kingdom will be fully present, following thereturn of Jesus from heaven, and Jesus will preside over thebanquet as Lord and Messiah.

The textual tradition of Luke 22 raises a major problem. Wehave seen that the manuscripts have both a ‘longer’ and a ‘shorter’text in 22.19(–20). The ‘shorter text’ (followed by the REB) makesJesus say only ‘this is my body’. The ‘longer text’ (given here bythe NRSV) reads: “‘This is my body which is given for you. Dothis in remembrance of me.” And he did the same thing with thecup after supper, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you isthe new covenant in my blood.” ‘The difference between the twoversions is that the longer text introduces two cups at supper (22.17, 20) and specifically makes Jesus say that his death is acovenantal sacrifice. The mature Joachim Jeremias (who changedhis mind on the issue) argues persuasively that the longer text shouldbe preferred on the grounds that a scribe may have omitted thesacred words of institution when copying Luke for a pagan reader.All the Greek manuscripts bar one (the so-called Codex Bezae)read the longer text, as do the other versions and the early Fatherswho used Luke. It would be foolish to ignore this substantialevidence. The longer text adds a more explicit covenantal overtoneto the death of Jesus than would otherwise be found in Luke. Onthis view Jesus calls his death a ‘new covenant’. This contrasts withthe ‘old covenant’ of Judaism, as has been suggested earlier by 16.16, and presents Christianity as continuous with Judaism in thesense that it has a covenant but also discontinuous because thatcovenant is a new one.

The background of this passage deserves brief exploration. AllChristian theology about the new covenant looks back to Jeremiah31.31–4: The days are coming, says the Lord, when I shallestablish a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah…. I


shall set my law within them, writing it on their hearts; I shall betheir God, and they will be my people…. I shall forgive theirwrongdoing, and their sin I shall call to mind no more.’ Luke has apredilection for Jeremiah as we have seen already. Here he uses apassage which indicates that the time of the new covenant hasarrived. This new covenant has been ratified in the death of Jesus.His death is in this sense a covenantal sacrifice. From Jeremiahderives the conviction that the forgiveness of sins has become areality in the eschatological age. The fact that sins are forgiven byJesus and the disciples in the Gospel is an eschatological sign whichdemonstrates the nature of the Christian movement.

It is not therefore true, in the light of this passage, to say thatLuke has no theology of the death of Jesus. The covenantal motifmakes the point that his death has effected eschatological salvation.Luke presents his death as a covenantal sacrifice which revealshim as Lord and Messiah and results in the forgiveness of sins.There are signs here of a dependence on various aspects of Paulinetheology.

In 22.21–3 Jesus says that his betrayer is at table. This causesthe disciples to ponder the traitor’s identity. After this a(somewhat artiflcial) dispute arises among the disciples as to whichof them is the greatest (22.24–7). Jesus addresses this by sayingthat the greatest must be like the servant, adding the words, ‘I amamong you like a servant’ (22.27). This repeats the ethicalinstruction proffered earlier in the Gospel (9–48) and drawsattention to the theme of suffering and service which we have seenis crucial in the Gospel.

There follows a significant passage in which Jesus comments onthe nature of the eschatological age (22.28–30). Jesus tells theTwelve that he entrusts to them the kingdom with which hisFather has entrusted him (22.29). The passage shows that theTwelve have an important role in the kingdom: ‘In my kingdomyou shall eat and drink at my table and sit on thrones as judges ofthe twelve tribes of Israel’ (22.30; Matthew 19.28). Luke, unlikeMatthew, places this saying in the context of the Last Supper andconnects it with the eschatological banquet. This highlights therole of the disciples when the kingdom finally comes. The seatingarrangement resembles a council of war in which Jesus sitsattended by his lieutenants. The disciples are said to assist in thejudgment of Israel. They apparently have the status of heads orpresidents of the tribes of Israel. Their presence with Jesus at the


Last Supper symbolizes the fact that the restoration of Israel willindeed happen given that the leaders of the tribes have beenappointed and are in place in the church.

In 22.31–4 Jesus tells Peter that Satan has asked to sift thedisciples but that he has prayed for Peter that his faith may notfail. Despite Peter’s assertion that he will go with Jesus to prisonJesus says that he will soon deny him three times. This prophecy isfulfilled not much later when Peter denies Jesus in the High Priest’scourtyard. Peter’s statement about going to prison for Jesus,however, is fulfilled in Acts 5.17–26 so that Luke’s view of Peterdoes have a forward-looking aspect. Peter certainly substantiallychanges in character after Pentecost. Satan may be ‘sifting’ Peter atthis point in the Gospel but his deflection of the apostle in Luke’sscheme is a momentary one.

The two earlier mission charges are recalled in 22.35–8.Previously, the disciples were sent out without support. Now,Jesus says they must take their purse and their pack, even buy asword. The disciples reply that they have two swords. Jesus says thisis enough. Some commentators interpret this as misunderstandingon the part of the disciples and grim humour from Jesus; butunderneath the passage may lie the genuine historical reminiscencethat Jesus and his band were lightly armed. Presumably this wasneeded for personal safety by anyone who ventured beyond thecity walls (as the disciples do in 22.39). There is no suggestion thattwo swords are adequate to ward off the arrest party as 22.50–1 willshow.

In 22.39 Jesus goes to the Mount of Olives and removes himselfto pray. He asks that the cup (of suffering) be removed from himbut that God’s will be done (22.40–2). 22.43–4 (the angel’sappearance from heaven and the description of Jesus’ sweatresembling blood) are omitted by many manuscripts. The textualsupport for them is less strong than for the longer text of 22.19–20(and the issue is consequently more difficult to judge). The passagenevertheless indicates the depth of anguish that was felt by Jesuson this occasion. This was no doubt compounded when hereturned to find the disciples asleep (22.45–6).

The arrest party now arrive, headed by Judas (22.47–8). Judastries to kiss Jesus. The disciples put up notional resistance in whicha servant of the High Priest has his ear cut off but is healed by Jesus(22.49–51). Jesus makes the point, related to the earlier narrative,that they are taking him by stealth when they had ample


opportunity to arrest him publicly in the temple (22.52–3), whichimplies an act of cowardice.

Jesus is taken to the home of the High Priest (22.54). Thenarrator’s interest switches to Peter. Peter sits warming himself inthe courtyard. Three times he denies that he is one of Jesus’followers. On the third occasion, after the cock crows, thenarrator says starkly: ‘the Lord turned and looked at Peter’ (22.61). Peter goes out and weeps bitterly that Jesus’ prediction abouthim has come true.

In 22.53–65 the mockery of Jesus by his guards is described. Thecrucial issue is the prophetic status of Jesus: ‘If you are a prophet,tell us who hit you’ (22.64). Readers know that Jesus is a prophet(e.g. 4.24; 7.39). The irony rests on the fact that Jesus refuses toauthenticate this status which the readers know that he enjoys andwhich the soldiers unwittingly pronounce. The prisoner is incontrol of the situation. He confounds his unwitting persecutors byhis superior knowledge which the author shares with the readers.

The ‘trial’ of Jesus before the Jewish Council is described in 22.67–71. In Luke this has the nature of an inquisition and not of atrial as such. No formal charges are levied or witnessessummoned. The purpose of the meeting is to find concreteevidence whereby Jesus can be brought before the Romans. Theauthorities begin by asking Jesus whether he is the Messiah.Readers again know that he is the Messiah but Jesus makes noanswer to the question. This is because he will only call himselfMessiah after his passion (24.26). The exchange which followsteases the reader into asking why Jesus is reluctant to acknowledgethe truth about his identity. The answer is that Luke isforegrounding a particular understanding of Messiahship in whichthis position is achieved only through the cross.

Jesus tells his accusers that, if he tells them the truth, they willnot believe him (22.67). He then proceeds to tell them the truth:‘From now on, the Son of Man will be seated at the right hand ofAlmighty God’ (22.69). This is much more than they had asked;and, as Jesus predicts, they fail to believe him. They evenpronounce the truth in order to reject it: ‘You are the Son of God,then?’ (22.70). Jesus once more replies ambiguously: ‘It is you whosay I am‘ (22.70). The assembly assumes that Jesus has replied inthe affirmative and conclude they have all the evidence that theyneed. This is an example of double irony in the Gospel because theaccusers (correctly) assume that Jesus thinks that he is the Messiah


but (incorrectly) assume that he is an impostor in making thisclaim.

It is impossible to read this report without recognizing that it iswritten from a Christian point of view. The irony is that the HighPriest, whose task it is to identify the Messiah, fails to do so. Thechapter closes with the Jewish conclusion: ‘We have heard thisevidence from his own lips’ (22.71). This, too, is ironic, for theauthorities fail to understand the significance of what they haveheard in this way. Because of their lack of understanding, Jesus ishanded over to the Romans, and the will of God furthered in theunfolding succession of paradoxes.

CHAPTER 23

In chapter 23 the assembly brings Jesus before Pilate. They claimthat ‘we found this man subverting our nation, opposing thepayment of taxes to Caesar, and claiming to be Messiah, a king’(23.1). The reader knows that all these charges are untrue. Jesusdid not sanction the withholding of taxes and in the Gospel he hasnever claimed to be the Messiah. The reference to ‘subverting ournation’ probably refers back to his action in the temple. If it does itshows that the Jewish authorities have misunderstood the truesignificance of this event by seeing it only as a threat against thepresent temple (and ignoring its eschatological consequences). Thecharges laid against Jesus emphasize the point that hiscondemnation is unjust.

Pilate asks Jesus whether he is the king of the Jews. Jesus replies,‘the words are yours’ (23.3). Pilate then adjudicates that Jesus hasno case to answer (23.4) but the chief priests and the crowd assert,‘His teaching is causing unrest among the people all over Judaea. Itstarted from Galilee and now has spread here’ (23.5). This makesPilate refer the case to Herod Antipas who is in Jerusalem at thetime (23.6–12). The trial before Herod is not mentioned in theother Gospels. For this reason many scholars have questioned itshistoricity.8 Luke includes it to emphasize the point that Jesus isinnocent: Herod questions Jesus at length but receives no reply (23.9). This leads to repeated mockery of him (23.11). But Herod doesnothing to condemn Jesus so that Pilate must conduct furtherinvestigation himself in 23.13–25.

The presentation of Pilate in 23.13–25 is of a governor who findsJesus innocent but who bows to mob rule and delivers Jesus to the


will of the Jews. We do not know the precise extent to which thisportrait is historical but it is virtually certain that the Jews did notpossess the right to conduct executions at the time (see John 18.31). This meant that the death penalty had to be sanctioned andcarried out by the Romans. Although the Jews, or some Jews,doubtless agitated against Jesus the Romans may not have neededmuch persuasion to kill someone whom the authorities said was athreat to stability. One can hardly read the trial narrative withoutasking historical questions of this kind. They follow naturally fromthe literary questions. In Luke the Roman part in the crucifixion issuppressed and the Jews lead Jesus away for execution (23.26).

In 23.13–25 Pilate states that Jesus is innocent of all charges andoffers to release Barabbas. Those addressed in this way are ‘thechief priests, councillors, and people’. This implies that all theinhabitants of Jerusalem call for Jesus’ blood. This is not justmisunderstanding by a few but rejection by one and all. Barabbasis introduced obliquely, quite unlike the version of events in theother Gospels. Mark’s comment that ‘at the festival season, thegovernor used to release one prisoner requested by the people’(Mark 15.6) is omitted by Luke. This heightens the impression ofmob violence for the willingness to condemn an innocent man ismatched by the (unexplained) demand to release a guilty one.Reason goes out of the narrative in 23.13–25. Pilate tries vainly topersuade the crowd but weakly yields to their demand. 23.24confirms that the death of Jesus has almost the character of alynching in Luke: ‘He released the man who had been put in prisonfor insurrection and murder, and gave Jesus over to their will.’

The Jews lead away for execution. They make Simon of Cyrenecarry his cross (23.26). Jesus then makes another lament overJerusalem which explains the tragedy of his passion (23.27–31).The women who follow Jesus mourn and lament for him (23.27).Jesus tells them to weep for themselves for the days are comingwhen people will envy the barren and pray to be covered by themountains (23.29–30). This links the death of Jesus with theRoman destruction of Jerusalem and confirms that Lukeunderstands 70 CE as punishment for the Jewish rejection of Jesus.

The crucifixion is described in 23.32–48. Jesus prays for hispersecutors, saying that ‘they do not know what they are doing’(23.34). He even asks God to forgive them. 23.34b-38 describeshow people taunted Jesus that he saved others but that he cannotsave himself. This again is ironic given what Jesus says about his


fate on the Mount of Olives. There is another ironic moment ofdisclosure in 23.38 when the titulus is placed on the cross. It reads:‘This is the king of the Jews.’ This tells the readers what theyalready know and what the crowds fail to recognize. Jesus is theMessiah. He is killed for what he is. The messianic secret isespecially controverted at this point in the Gospel.

The words of the two criminals crucified with Jesus are recordedin 23.39–43. The first cries in desperation, ‘Save yourself, and us!’(23.39). The second is more reflective. Acknowledging his owncrime, he pronounces on the innocence of Jesus (23.41) and asksthat Jesus will remember him when he comes to his throne (23.42). Jesus promises that that day he will be with him in Paradise(23.43). Paradise in this context denotes the intermediate place ofthe dead (cf. 16.23).

The death of Jesus is narrated in 23.44–7. Darkness falls overthe whole land between noon and three o’clock (23.44). Thecurtain of the temple is torn in two further symbolizing thebuilding’s destruction (23.45). This again makes an interestingparallel with the thought of Hebrews where Jesus enters theheavenly sanctuary at the moment of his death on the cross (Hebr.10.19–20). Jesus commends his spirit into God’s hands, using thewords of an evening prayer (23.46). At the moment of Jesus’ death,the narrator states that the Roman centurion pronounces himinnocent beyond all doubt (23.47). The crowd go home, beatingtheir breasts at the execution (23.48).

The passage 23.50–4 explains that Jesus is buried in the tombowned by Joseph of Arimathea. The women observe the location ofthe tomb and go home to prepare their spices. They rest on thesabbath to prevent the impurity that would be caused by contactwith a corpse (23.55–6).

CHAPTER 24

On the first day of the week (i.e. Sunday) the women come to thetomb with their spices (24.1). They find the stone rolled away (24.2) and cannot see the body of Jesus inside it (24.3). Two men indazzling garments—clearly angels—appear (24.3). They ask thewomen why they seek the living among the dead (24.5) and remindthem that Jesus predicted his own resurrection when he was inGalilee (24.6–7). The women remember the words of Jesus and goto tell the Eleven what they have seen (24.8–11).


There follows in 24.11 a significant statement in the search forwhat the resurrection means. The narrator says of the disciples,when they heard the report of the women, that ‘the story appearedto them to be nonsense, and they would not believe them’. Withthis should be compared the narrator’s comment in 23.55–6 thatthe women go home to prepare spices and do not think to breakthe sabbath legislation. Their preparations for embalming showthat they expected to find a corpse. It was the vision of theheavenly visitors which convinces the women that Jesus has beenraised. The same is true of the disciples who did not believe whentold about the empty tomb. They were not expecting theresurrection, either. It is the vision of the heavenly Jesus whichconvinces them that he had been raised. The risen Jesus is a heavenlybeing who appears to the disciples in chapter 24.

With 24.13–35 we reach the Gospel’s dénouement. Luke recordsthe story of the disciples as they journey to Emmaus. They arejoined by a stranger, Jesus himself, of whom the narrator says,‘something prevented them from recognizing him’ (24.16).The narrator does not say why this is but the possibility is thatelements drawn from Jewish angelology undergird the story andthat Jesus, as a heavenly visitor, appears to the disciples insomething other than his crucified form. This is what the deutero-Marcan version of the story says explicitly (Mark 16.15). HadJesus appeared to them as a broken victim of torture, they wouldcertainly have recognized him. The disciples tell Jesus about theirfailed hopes that he would liberate Israel (24.21) and about thereports of his resurrection (24.23–4). Jesus’ reply in 24.25–7 setsthe Gospel in perspective: ‘Was not the Messiah bound to suffer inthis way before entering upon his glory?’ (24.26). At this climacticmoment Jesus calls himself Messiah and says that suffering is anecessary part of his messianic office. This is both a retrospectivecommentary on his refusal to use the ‘Messiah’ title so far in theGospel and a promise that his death has not invalidated theeschatological restoration, but has helped to secure it. This isbecause the suffering Messiah, in the language of 22.20, haseffected the new covenant and entered on his heavenly positionfrom which, it is implied by 9.26 and chapter 22, he will return topreside over the kingdom of God.

Jesus vanishes at the moment that he is recognized (24.30).There is doubtless a eucharistic symbolism in the fact that Jesusmakes himself known in the breaking of bread. The Emmaus


disciples return to Jerusalem to tell the others what they have seen(24.33–5). As the disciples mull things over, Jesus appears again(24.36–49). As if to prove that he is not a ghost, he eats some fish(24.41–2). ‘Ghost’ in this context signifies a spirit of a dead personwho belongs to the intermediate region. For Luke, Jesus is not adead spirit but the risen Lord. He had passed to the heavenlyworld and shares the glory of God.

In 24.44–9 what Jesus told the Emmaus disciples is confirmed:‘everything written about me…is bound to be fulfilled’. This is anexplicit acknowledgement on the part of Jesus that he is theMessiah. In 24.46 Jesus adds that ‘scripture foretells the sufferingsof the Messiah and his rising from the dead on the third day’ andsays that scripture ‘declares that in his name repentance bringingthe forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed to all nations beginningfrom Jerusalem’ (24.47). Forgiveness is an eschatologicalcommodity; Jesus says here that the Gentiles are included in it.

Luke alone of the Evangelists narrates the ascension. Jesus istaken up to heaven at the end of the Gospel. We know from 22.69that this is for him to be enthroned at the right hand of God(cf. Acts 2.33). The disciples return to Jerusalem with great joy‘and spen[d] all their time in the temple praising God’. This is nodoubt because the temple is expected to be the centre of theeschatological climax. The disciples return to the place whichsymbolizes the future full appearance of the kingdom of God.


Chapter 4Alternative readings of Luke

INTRODUCTION

This reading of Luke presents the story as a description of Jesus’journey from Galilee to Jerusalem, with its implications foreschatology, and emphasized the theme of the temple as one thatdoes much to hold the Gospel together. As I explained earlier, itwould be wrong to pretend that any single reading offers a final ordefinitive perspective on Luke. To demonstrate this point, I nowwant to offer two further readings of the text, one written from adeconstructive stance and the other from a feminist perspective.Neither again offers a final perspective on Luke: nor indeed willone person’s deconstructive or feminist reading necessarily beshared by anyone else! But the further attempt at reading is usefulbecause it draws attention to the need for a variety of approachesto text and highlights the fact that interpretation must be acorporate exercise, which is not the prerogative of a single methodor scholar.

A DECONSTRUCTIVE READING

Deconstruction has enjoyed a mixed reception in scholarship (notleast in biblical scholarship). It has been called ‘nihilistic’,‘dehumanizing’, ‘unethical’, ‘virulently anti-Christian’ and‘particularly hostile to religious ideas and people’. These criticismshave been surveyed in a paper by David Clines who responds tothem in a characteristically robust manner.1 Clines follows Derridain observing that all texts are capable of deconstruction becausethey contain binary oppositions which can be shown to be open toquestion. The ethics of a deconstructive approach, Clines argues,

lies in its commitment to the truth: ‘I think that wanting to knowis not just idle intellectual curiosity, but a kind of ethical courage,like wanting to know the worst from my doctor. I cannot bear tobe kept in the dark about something that is the case, and I think itmy duty to let other people in on secrets—especially secrets thatimportant people would like to stay secrets.’2 Clines emphasizesthe point that deconstruction, far from being brought to the textfrom outside, happens when a text is read and works from theinformation that lies within the text. It is thus an internal activityin which the reader responds to textual signs and not an alienimportation with nihilistic tendencies.

I begin my deconstructive reading by identifying some themeswhich are set in a ‘binary opposition’ of this kind. This will be aselective and far from an exhaustive list. The first consideration isthe tension that exists between the presence and the absence ofJesus in the Gospel. Jesus inhabits Luke as a character in the story.Luke ends with the ascension where Jesus is taken off to heaven tobe enthroned as a heavenly being (cf. 22.69). Jesus in Luke is thusa character who disappears. His absence gives the story itsmeaning: Jesus for the readers is the Lord who journeys from earthto heaven (9.51). The heavenly Lord makes his presence feltwhenever Jesus the character is mentioned. His enthronement is asymbol that he is waiting to return to earth to effect the visibleclimax of the kingdom of God (22.69; cf. Acts 7.56).

Jesus in this sense is both present and absent for the readers. Heis present in the text and present through his Spirit in every act ofworship whenever the Gospel is read. Yet the presence of Jesusalso draws attention to his continued absence because he has yet toreturn from heaven to act as the eschatological judge (9.26).

Part of the Gospel’s function is to make the absent Jesus presentby the repetition of his life and words. The very fact that theGospel is written down (supplementing the oral tradition) is a signof his significant absence. The return of Jesus will over-ride theneed for authority to which the Gospel responds. In this sense thewritten record anticipates the eschatological manifestation of Jesusas Lord. In the meantime the Gospel offers a constantrepresentation of him. It makes Jesus present but at the same timedraws attention to the as-yet unfulfilled aspect of Christianeschatology.

So the absent Jesus is always present (through the reading of theGospel) and the present Jesus is always absent (because of his

150 ALTERNATIVE READINGS OF LUKE

delayed return). This means that the binary opposition betweenpresence and absence breaks down completely. The two arenot opposites at all. Each of them informs the other. The ascensionis a pictorial demonstration of this. It is both a symbol of theabsence of Jesus and a symbol of his future return (see Acts 1.11).At his return, it is implied, absence will yield before presence andthe eschatological hopes which the Gospel creates will be satisfied.

We should ask what Luke gains by placing this deconstructibletension in his Gospel. It is deeply embedded and serves perhaps asthe Gospel’s most significant contrast. It is bound up with thequestion of Luke’s response to the delay in eschatology which weshall examine in the next chapter. It makes the point that Jesus isnever fully absent because he is present in the text and presentthrough his Spirit in worship. Those who are feeling the wearinessof the delay can take comfort from the fact that many of theeschatological events have already been accomplished. Thekingdom is present already (17.21) and day by day people areentering it (even as late as Acts 28.24). Chapter 21 especiallycomments on the fufilment of eschatology. At the same time thecontrast is a means of sustaining hope while the Lord tarries. Whatis now perceived is not the final state of the kingdom as Lukeenvisages it. The return of Jesus will initiate an act of judgment (9.26) when the causes of oppression will be removed from thekingdom. The absence of Jesus is a sign that the kingdom willappear and that Luke’s hopes for liberation will be realized.

This Lucan tension mirrors the general pattern of NewTestament eschatology. Even in 1 Thessalonians 4—the earliestChristian literary evidence we have—Paul is obliged to defend theeschatological hope against those who think it should have beenrealized already. Frustratingly, we lack the full evidence to knowwhat Paul had preached about the return of Jesus. But if he foundhimself confounded by his own words—or a contortion of hiswords —when writing to the Thessalonians, it is likely that hepreached an imminent eschatology in which Jesus’ sojourn inheaven was made a temporary visit. Paul’s mature treatment ofeschatology contains the view that God has delayed the climax tofacilitate the conversion of Israel (Romans 9–11). The (much later)2 Peter 3.9 presents an explanation of a similar kind whichexplains the delay with reference to God’s patience. In Ephesians 2.6 we find the view that the church has been enthroned with Christ

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in the heavenly places. This offers reassurance about theeschatological benefits despite the fact that Jesus has not returned.

None of these texts has abandoned the view that Jesus willreturn from heaven. Both the late Paul (Philippians 3.20–1) andthe book of Revelation (22.20) insist that he will return. Luke’s‘now and not yet’ must be seen against this wider background sothat its impact is neither unduly emphasized or improperlyminimized. The crucial question is whether Luke has given upbelieving that Jesus will return in the immediate future and whathappens to a reading of the Gospel if this view is taken. Myreading of the text concludes that Luke has not taken this courseof action and that his Gospel contains signs of a potentiallyimminent climax in eschatology. I shall examine this matter in thenext chapter. It shows that the ambivalence between the presenceand absence of Jesus is not exclusively a Lucan device (although itis undoubtedly emphasized in the Gospel).

A further deconstructible element is the uncertainty surroundingthe question of whether or not Jesus is the liberator of Israel inLuke. The Infancy Narrative introduces this theme into theGospel. Simeon is called one who ‘watched and waited for therestoration of Israel’ (2.25); Anna, someone who ‘talked about thechild to all who were looking for the liberation of Jerusalem’ (2.38). But this is not what Jesus says about his destiny. On his lips‘the Son of Man has to endure great sufferings, and to be rejectedby the elders, chief priests, and scribes, to be put to death, and tobe raised again on the third day’ (9.22). When he speaks about therole of Jerusalem it is in very different tones: ‘I must go on my waytoday and tomorrow, because it is unthinkable for a prophet tomeet his death anywhere but in Jerusalem’ (13.33). This conflict ofexpectations is picked up by the Emmaus disciples in the Gospel’sdénouement: ‘Our chief priests and rulers handed him over to besentenced to death, and crucified him. But we had been hopingthat he was to be the liberator of Israel’ (24.21). To which Jesusreplies in his most significant sentence: ‘Was not the Messiahbound to suffer in this way before entering upon his glory?’ (24.26).

Perhaps the most striking feature of the speeches made bySimeon and Anna is that they fail to define what is meant by theconcept of ‘liberation’ in the Gospel. The Nunc Dimittis, however,shows that neither character works with an innocentunderstanding. 2.26–7 introduces the canticle by mentioning three


important themes in the Gospel: Spirit, Messiah and temple. TheNunc Dimittis supplies the framework in which these must beunderstood. The coming of Jesus is said to introduce a deliverancewhich will ‘bring revelation to the Gentiles and glory to yourpeople Israel’ (2.32). Intertextuality plays its part in the creation ofmeaning in this statement. The primary reference is to Isaiah 49.6:‘I shall appoint you a light to the nations so that my salvation mayreach earth’s farthest bounds.’ There is also an implied allusion toIsaiah 46.13: ‘In Zion I shall grant deliverance for Israel my glory’.This Hebrew background prevents the view that any narrowlypolitical understanding of ‘liberation’ is involved in Luke. Thiscannot be so, for the people who under those circumstances are theoppressors (the Gentiles) are included in the act of liberation. Atstake is a much more comprehensive understanding of ‘liberation’which has eschatological overtones. It is the decisive liberation ofGod which will be totalistic in its effects and which for this reasoncan be introduced only by divine intervention and not throughhuman action.

This means that we must carefully examine the concept of‘reversal’ in Luke. The belief that the hungry will be fed and themighty punished, exemplified by the Beatitudes and Woes, iscentral to the Gospel. Luke’s biblical heritage leads him toconclude that the biblical promises about Israel and the socialconvictions of the Hebrew Bible will both be fulfilled. The Biblehas much to say about the proper treatment of the poor andreminds those in authority of their obligations in this respect. Luke’sunderstanding of ‘liberation’ picks up this theme of social justiceand applies it to the existing order which was characterized by theexperience of patriarchy and dependency. ‘Liberation’ for Luke isthus both a religious and a social phenomenon. It anticipates aprocess which began with the preaching of Jesus whereby the rulesthat governed society and kept things as they were would bechanged with the full emergence of the kingdom of God.

The question of how Jesus is the ‘liberator’ is the subject of abinary opposition in Luke. On the one hand Simeon and Annaidentify him as such. There is no suggestion that anyone else is theliberator of Israel. On the other Jesus is not (yet) the liberator asLuke tells his story. This last point is demonstrated vividly by 19.45–6. Jesus makes a lot of noise in the temple—but nothingactually happens when he does. 19.11 even warns the reader thatnothing will happen when it says that the kingdom of God will not


appear when Jesus reaches Jerusalem. This is what happens (ordoes not happen) for the judge is taken prisoner at the end of thestory and put to death by the Romans. The kingdom is not fullypresent at the end of Luke. It is not even present at the end of Actswhere Paul’s preaching of the kingdom (Acts 28.31) drawsattention to the fact that it is not fully present.

Yet for Luke this ‘yet-to-be-accomplished’ aspect of theliberation has an ‘already accomplished’ aspect. Jesus says so in 22.20 where he calls the cup ‘the new covenant, sealed by my blood’.The tension between Jesus as the liberator of Israel and the Jesuswho dies is a purposeful one in the Gospel. For it is through thedeath of Jesus, quite paradoxically, that his act of liberation issecured. The implication of 24.25–7, where Jesus tells the Emmausdisciples about the need for the Messiah’s suffering, is that thepromised liberation has not failed but that it has been achieved inan unexpected way. This is through the Messiah’s death which isfollowed by his resurrection and heavenly exaltation. The fact thatJesus is for Luke a heavenly being explains the unfulfilled aspect ofeschatology along the lines of the ‘presence—absence’ oppositionwhich I have deconstructed already. Eschatology remainsincomplete because of the absence of Jesus in heaven. It willhowever find its goal in his return from heaven when his presencewill be a permanent one and the kingdom be fully present.

We must also consider the binary opposition between ‘rich’ and‘poor’ and suchlike terms which feature especially in the Beatitudesand Woes in chapter 6. The Beatitudes describe the kind of peoplewho belong to the kingdom and those who can expect punishmentat the Eschaton. The latter are said to be the rich and prosperouswhose happy time is now. This opposition reflects the Palestinianculture of ‘dependency’ which allowed a small minority to wieldpower and influence over the vast majority of people. One of thefeatures of the Gospel is that it transfers the preaching of Jesusfrom its original life-setting in the Palestinian agrarian economy toan implied setting in the social situation of Christians in theHellenistic cities of the Roman Empire. This means that Lukeapparently finds difficulty with some of the source material—notably, perhaps, with the command to ‘hate’ one’s family—whichhe reinterprets to suit this new situation.

Part of Luke’s reinterpretation is his deconstruction elsewhere inthe Gospel of the binary oppositions which are erected inchapter 6. This is evident in his wider view of riches and in his view


about the accessibility of the kingdom without qualification to all.For Luke, riches have positive value if they are distributedaccording to the demands of charity (16.9). Luke also cautionsthat those who belong to the kingdom—which he says inchapter 6 are ‘the poor’ — may find themselves ostracized from itbecause of their behaviour (13.25). The rich can thus enter thekingdom and the poor and needy may be excluded from it. Thismaterial offers a fascinating new perspective on the Beatitudes. Itis not true to say that the kingdom belongs only to the poor and thedeprived in Luke. These qualities may be appropriate to thekingdom but they are not a prosopographic portrait of thekingdom’s constituency. Similarly, it is not riches in the bald sensebut the use of riches that places a person ‘inside’ or ‘outside’ of thekingdom of God.

We may perhaps not doubt that such bald oppositions are anauthentic part of what Jesus actually preached. The historical Jesusprobably used them to let his audience practise their powers ofdeconstruction. Many aspects of his preaching cry out fordeconstruction because he spoke in polarized terms and without afull consistency. This is an inevitable feature of the parable. Lukehandles such material in a distinctive way. He preserves the binaryoppositions in chapter 6 but provides material elsewhere in theGospel to help the reader break them down. This both allows forthe perhaps rather mixed constituency of the Lucan churches andthrows issues of ethical concern and decision into the arena ofdebate. The rich can choose not to be rich by giving their moneyaway. This is what Jesus tells the Rich Young Ruler in chapter 18.But the deconstruction also tells the rich that they do not need to bebankrupt to enter the kingdom. Similariy, the poor are told thatany presumption on their poverty may lead them to be debarredfrom the kingdom despite their status and profession. They, too,must act ethically by doing what Jesus tells them. The basis of thedeconstruction is the demand for mutuality where both giving andreceiving are significant concepts. In this sense the poor mustbehave in precisely the same way as the rich. They must give andforgive if they want to be treated like this themselves.

We might even say that Luke’s ethical teaching is founded on adeconstruction. The basis of the argument is that the poor mustbehave like the rich and the rich must behave like the poor. This isthe pattern of suffering and service which is emphasizedthroughout the Gospel. Only by doing this can people be members


of the kingdom. The Beatitudes and Woes are a spur to thoughtabout what constitutes the kingdom’s standards. They should notbe read without consideration of what Luke says elsewhere in hisGospel; and they certainly do not advocate a particular view aboutthe social constituency of the Lucan churches.

Finally, the theme of the temple in Luke. Here, too, there is aninteresting deconstructibility. Luke knows of two temples:the present temple and the eschatological temple. These templesare apparently opposed to each other in Jesus’ propheticdenunciation of the first (13.35) and symbolic anticipation of thesecond (20.17). Yet this opposition breaks down when werecognize that the denunciation of the present temple is undertakenby the person who is the corner-stone of the eschatological temple.The truth of 13.35—that the present temple is currently forsakenby God—is authenticated by the fact that the eschatologicalcorner-stone is already in place and that he is even the speaker inthis verse. Not only so but the chief corner-stone conducts hispreaching ministry on the site of the present temple (chapters 20–1). It is in the temple that Jesus warns that ‘not one stone (sc. ofthe present temple) will be left upon another’ (21.6). This passageis the fulfilment of 20.18 where it is said that ‘everyone who fallson that stone will be dashed to pieces’. Luke loved this contrastbetween the two temples to judge from its prominence in theGospel. The significance of the deconstructible opposition is thatthe readers do not have to wait for the eschatological temple to bebuilt at some point in the future. God has already constructed thetemple. It is currently in heaven and exists, with characteristicapocalyptic ambivalence, as a significant factor in the readers’imagination. The present temple is not the true or future temple;but the future temple (like the kingdom) is none the less fullypresent in the drama of the Gospel despite its perceptible absence.

A FEMINIST READING

From deconstruction we move to feminism (but without presentingthe two as binary opposites!). The meaning and interpretation of‘feminism’ has provoked a controversy similar to that thrown upby deconstruction. One person’s feminism, so it seems, is someoneelse’s patriarchy. The women’s movement has unsurprisinglyprogressed since its first emergence in the 1960s. We need to beclear about what might emerge from a feminist reading of Luke.


Such a reading begins from the observation that Luke is anarrative. A feminist reading asks about the portrayal of thewomen characters in the story.3 Are they real women or merely amale author’s or narrator’s androcentric view of women? Does thestory serve women’s interests or do the women by contrast servethe men? These questions are important ones because of thefamiliar scholarly view that Luke as an author is especiallyinterested in women. This makes it all the more urgent to askwhether Luke’s women are real women or merely subordinatecharacters in the male author’s drama of salvation. To answer thisquestion means that we must examine all the characters in Luke. Arethere implied distinctions between the men and women or are thetwo portrayed in similar terms? And how realistic is thecharacterization in any event? This research will supply theinformation that lets us answer to the first question concerningLuke’s portrayal of his women characters.

The first woman we encounter is Elizabeth (chapter 1). Sheappears in tandem with Zechariah and becomes the mother ofJohn the Baptist. Elizabeth fulfils the traditional role of wife andmother in a patriarchal culture. She features as a minor characterin a story that concerns men. We are told, first of all, that she is ofpriestly descent (1.5) and secondly that she is barren (1.7). Herusefulness as a character is here defined by her (in)ability toproduce children. When she does conceive, this is referredspecifically to the intervention of God (1.13). No genuine accountis provided of her feelings at any time (did she enjoy the sex whichconceived the Baptist?). During her pregnancy Elizabeth lives inseclusion so that no-one can see she is pregnant (1.24–5). This ispresumably to avoid the ridicule associated with conception in oldage. But it also makes Elizabeth disguise her natural status as amother as if this is somehow uninteresting or unimportant.

Next on the scene is Mary. Mary, too, is a mother. She is themother of Jesus. The status of the son determines the status of themother. The fact that Mary’s son is superior to Elizabeth’sexplains the fact that Elizabeth treats Mary as superior (1.43).Mary’s supreme status in the Gospel is defined by the fact that sheis the mother of the Messiah. Luke’s presentation of the birth ofJesus further illustrates the point we have seen with Elizabeth, thathis interest in Mary as mother is with the status and function ofher son and not with her own feelings nor with her ability to shapeher son’s personality and future as every mother does.


In this sense the Magnificat, which is ostensibly a hymn aboutMary, is in fact a hymn about Jesus: ‘From this day forward allgenerations will count me blessed, for the Mighty God has donegreat things for me’ (1.48–9). The goodness of God for Luke lies inthe provision of Jesus and not with the high estimation of Mary assuch. Luke’s interest in Mary’s motherhood lies firmly in theprovision of eschatological salvation. Mary’s status as a woman isa secondary consideration.

These remarks must be counterbalanced by consideration ofwhat Luke appears to be doing in the Infancy Narrative. We haveseen that the shift from Attic to biblical Greek in 1.5 indicates thatthe Hebrew Bible is essential for the story that Luke tells. In thiscontext Luke makes a deliberate allusion to earlier miraculousconceptions, notably those of Samuel and Samson.4 The patriarchalportrait of Elizabeth and Mary must be evaluated in this context.Intertextuality forms the basis of the picture. The two Lucanmothers recall the two Hebrew mothers. This explains theemphasis which the story places on the themes of barrenness anddivine intervention. Only if the rest of the Gospel continues thiskind of portrait can we conclude that Luke thinks about women inthis way. The evidence shows that in fact he does not.

The next woman whom we meet is Anna (chapter 2). Annaappears in tandem with Simeon as a prophetess of the restorationof Israel. She fits a well-known holy type: Anna is a godly widowwho is known for her prayer and devotion (2.36). Luke introducestwo prophets at this stage in deference to the fact that in JewishLaw there must be more than one witness. It is significant thatLuke should make the witnesses a man and a woman. This impliesthat their testimony is of equal value. It suggests a particular viewof gender distinctions in the Gospel. Even when writing in hisbiblical vein Luke is prepared to place a woman on an equalfooting with a man in terms of the provision of witness to Jesus theMessiah. That this happens in the Infancy Narrative suggests thatthe patriarchal aura is qualified there.

Women are among those whom Jesus heals in his ministry. Onesuch person is the woman who has the issue of blood in 8.43–8. Itis certainly true that she suffers from a woman’s complaint but theway in which Jesus deals with her seems hardly different from theway that he treats male sufferers in the Gospel. The woman showsthe faith that Jesus will heal her by touching the hem of hisgarment (8.44). Jesus says that this has made her whole (8.48). It


is not said that the woman’s sins are forgiven but this is a feature ofother miracle stories that involve both men (5.20) and women (7.47).

The last of these passages—the story of the allegedly immoralwoman in 7.36–50—is interesting for what it reveals about thedifferent characters involved. First of all we meet Simon, thePharisee who invites Jesus to dinner (7.33). The woman enters in 7.37. She is described as ‘living an immoral life in the town’.The woman brings myrrh and anoints Jesus’ feet with her kissesand tears (7.38). Simon immediately suspects the worst: thewoman sees Jesus as a potential client (7.39). He thinks that Jesusshould have more insight into her character. Irony is a significantfeature of this story. Jesus knows what Simon is thinking (7.40). Hetells the parable of the debtors to rebuke him. The parable leads tothe conclusion that the woman’s many sins have been forgiven (7.47). It thereby subverts the expectations which the narrativeconstructs. Simon thinks that, if Jesus is a prophet, he must knowthat the woman is a prostitute. The narrator indicates that,because Jesus is a prophet, he can see that the woman is a penitentdespite the fact that he knows she is a prostitute. This amounts toa reinterpretation of the familiar biblical image of the prostitute.That the woman is a prostitute is not denied by the story but theimportant thing about her is that she recognizes her need offorgiveness and comes to Jesus as the person who can help her. Sheis not presented as a greater sinner than anyone else—such aninterpretation is implicitly criticized by 13.1–5—but as someonewho acknowledges her need for forgiveness. She is therefore notrejected as a prostitute but welcomed as a penitent (which is howeverybody comes to Jesus as Luke understands it). The implicationof the story is that the virtuous Simon, who has failed to recognizehis need of forgiveness, comes off worse than the woman because,in criticizing her, he has failed to recognize the dilemma of his owncondition.

There is a brief reference to women at the beginning ofchapter 8. Jesus goes from village to village accompanied by theTwelve, ‘proclaiming the good news of the kingdom of God’ (8.1).His band is accompanied by ‘a number of women who had beenset free from evil spirits and infirmities’ (8.2). At first sight thisreference seems patronizing: it implies that the men follow Jesus(sc. because Jesus had called them) but that the women follow Jesusbecause Jesus has healed them from various complaints. But this


initial impression that they are camp-followers must be resisted.The passage makes the point that Jesus is followed by men and bywomen. Healings in Luke are not so much signs of personalweakness as a demonstration of people’s willingness to receive thekingdom of God, and thus a positive thing. This positive attitudetowards women as disciples is continued in the second half of 8.3:‘these women provided for them out of their own resources’. Thisverse states that the women not only received the kingdom of Godbut also gave what they had to secure the success of its preaching.This is more than the men are said to do. One must conclude thatLuke thinks of men and women as disciples of Jesus on equalterms and that he even emphasizes the role of women as those whomake the preaching possible through their generosity. Thisforegrounds the significance of women in a context where thismight not be expected.

From here, we turn to the story of Martha and Mary (10.38–42). Martha is introduced first. She welcomes Jesus (10.38) but is‘distracted by her many tasks’ (10.40), so much so that she asksJesus to tell Mary to help her. Mary, by contrast, ‘seated herself atthe Lord’s feet and stayed there listening to his words’ (10.39).Jesus rather surprisingly rebukes Martha: ‘Martha, Martha, youare fretting and fussing about so many things; only one thing isnecessary. Mary has chosen what is best; it shall not be taken awayfrom her’ (10.41–2). It is by no means accidental that the twocharacters in this story are women. The fact that they are sistersemphasizes the contrast between them. Martha does what anywoman in the ancient world was expected to do. She provides forthe visitor and gets on with the chores. Mary adopts an unusualposition: she reclines with Jesus, probably at table, and talks withhim. This is the traditional role of the man. Here, Luke subvertsthe gender distinction by praising Mary for doing what a womanwould not normally do: reclining at a table and talking on equalterms with a man. The criticism of Martha is overtly a criticism ofthose who are too busy to listen to Jesus. But it is more than this.It is also a criticism of the system which casts women in this roleand probably of the way in which some women were being treatedin the readers’ churches. This story in particular counterbalancesthe much more patriarchal portrayal of women in the InfancyNarrative. It represents a breaking-down of the binary oppositionbetween male and female by allowing the emphasis to fall onpersonhood in discipleship to Jesus, and not on gender.


In 11.27 a woman calls out to Jesus from the crowd. She doeshere exactly what the (male) blind beggar will do later in 18.35–43.

Chapter 20 contains the test question from the Sadducees aboutlevirate marriage and the resurrection (20.27–38). Jesus denies thatthe woman will belong to any particular brother in the resurrectionage. He justifies this conclusion with reference to theangelomorphic status of the resurrected: ‘those who have beenjudged worthy of a place in the other world, and of theresurrection from the dead, do not marry, for they are no longersubject to death. They are like angels; they are children of God’(20.35–6). This represents the denial that sexual relations will beappropriate in the resurrection age. By implication, it also meansthat gender differentials will lose their force at that time. In thatcase, we possibly find a scheme in which the hope for the comingof the kingdom is connected with the overcoming of genderdifferentials between men and women. That might explain whyLuke speaks as he does of the equality between men and women asdisciples of Jesus in the Gospel. It is because the kingdom of Godis present already (17.20–1), albeit hidden (13.21), that itsstandards impinge on the present as people respond to Jesus. Lukeadvocates an equality between the sexes which reflects this fact andagrees with what Paul said about this issue in Galatians 3.28. Weare hard pressed not to conclude that the need for equality is anissue which looms large in the pages of the Gospel, evidentlybecause women were disenfranchised in the circles for which theGospel was written.

Women play a significant role in the crucifixion and resurrectionnarratives. As Jesus is led away for execution, ‘great numbers ofpeople followed, among them many women who mourned andlamented over him’ (23.27). Jesus warns them to weep forthemselves because the day of judgment is impending. It is thewomen, and not the men, who are said here to regret thesentencing of Jesus. There is a substantial irony in this. The malecharacters in the trial, who had the power to spare Jesus, did notdo so. The disciples deserted Jesus in his tragic hour. The femalecharacters, who were not involved as protagonists, have the insightto recognize the true pathos and tragedy of the situation. To thisextent they are more insightful than the men.

Women are the first to discover the empty tomb of Jesus (24.1–9). As at the beginning of the Gospel women witness anangelophany which discloses to them authoritative truth:


‘Remember how he told you…that the Son of Man must be giveninto the power of sinful men and be crucified’ (24.6–7). Thewomen then ‘recalled his words’ (24.8) and go to tell the discipleswhat they had seen. The disciples, however, refuse to believe them:‘the story appeared to them to be nonsense’ (24.11). Here againthe women are portrayed as insightful and the male disciples asdisbelieving.

We must now consider the relative qualities of the men andwomen characters in the Gospel. I have said earlier that mostLucan characters are ‘stocks’ who allow the spotlight to fall onJesus. If it is true that Luke’s women are stock characters, this istrue also of Luke’s men. We know more about Peter than the otherdisciples and have only brief snippets about these others, such asJames and John. But even Peter is the narrator’s tool. He ispresented both as impulsively enthusiastic (9.20) but also aswilfully rejecting (22.54–62). The men whom Jesus heals are‘types’ who demonstrate that Isaiah 61 is being fulfilled. Womenare no more or less ‘types’ than these male minor characters. Thisis well illustrated by the story of the allegedly immoral womanwhere both the woman and Simon the Pharisee are judgedaccording to the nature of their responses to Jesus.

This conclusion certainly qualifies what we can say about Luke’sportrayal of women as real women. The women may not be fully‘real’ but they are no more or less real women than the men arereal men. The lack of detailed characterization makes thisconclusion inevitable. It is not to be seen as a repudiation ofwomen as such but as a general feature of the way that Luke tellshis story. It is definitely to be noted that the patriarchalism of theInfancy Narrative is more than overcome by the positive portrayalof women in the body of the Gospel, especially in chapters 8 and10.


Chapter 5The themes of Luke’s Gospel

We shall now study the ‘themes’ of Luke’s Gospel or at least someof them. This material is what many commentators would call the‘theology’ of Luke but I shall avoid that term here in deference tomy narrative approach.1 Our reading of Luke has thrown up areaswhere the Gospel uses themes that have a wider currency in theprimitive Christian world—and passages where problems exist.These deserve to be examined more fully to make sure that wehave not missed any of Luke’s carefully constructed nuances.

SEEING IS BELIEVING

One characteristic Lucan theme is the frequent use of the verb ‘tosee’. There is a good example of this in the story of the shepherdswhich forms part of the Infancy Narrative. The shepherds say thatthey will go to see the nativity (2.15). The narrator adds that,when they have seen it, they report their angelic vision to the maincharacters (2.17). This exchange comes at an important point in theGospel when Jesus is first introduced. It shows that the concept of‘seeing’ has a great force in Luke’s work. This impression isconfirmed by later evidence. Luke 3.6 expresses the hope that allflesh will ‘see’ the salvation of God. Moreover, the commentplaced by Jesus on his parables in 8.10 contrasts ‘looking’ andseeing’ (‘the others have only parables, so that they may look butsee nothing’) to state that those beyond the circle of the disciplescannot understand the meaning of Jesus and his message. Manyother examples could be produced of this use of the verb. ThisLucan usage draws the reader into the narrative and involves himor her in the unfolding story of Jesus.

This is analogous to what happened to them in theircorporate lives as Christians as the Gospel is read in the context of

worship. What takes place on the narrative level supports theconviction that Jesus is present as the Lord through his Spirit whenthey worship. Luke’s concept of ‘seeing’ allows the readers toshare, at the narrator’s invitation, the privileged position of theoriginal disciples —and to have even greater insight because,through the narrator’s guidance, they know the full facts aboutJesus so that the original characters’ misunderstandings areavoided. This perhaps compensates for the fact that Luke, asopposed to John (1 John 1.1) and probably the other Evangelists(Mark 14.51–2; Matthew 9.9), was not an eyewitness of the eventsthat he records (see especially Luke 1.2). He is sensitive to theneeds of others who stand in a similar position.

Stephen Moore is right to say that to this extent Luke’s Gospelembodies an epistemology.2 By this he means that behind theGospel (and Acts) stands a theory of knowledge through whichreaders are reinforced in their understanding. What passes for‘truth’ is encoded for them in the text in the insistence that Jesus—the hero crucified by the Romans—provides salvation and is adivine being in his own right. The epistemology pivots on the‘seeing’ terminology. Those who ‘see’ the events of the Gospelencounter, not just this story from the past, but their heavenlySaviour who is present in the church. The description of the absentJesus, symbolized by the ascension, is paradoxically an assertionthat Jesus is ever and more universally present because he is aheavenly being. Acts shows that the work of the Spirit is still notcomplete given that Jesus has yet to return from heaven. This issignificant if the sudden ending of Acts is deliberate and Paul is leftproclaiming the facts about Jesus quite openly under house arrestin Rome (Acts 28.30–1). That would make the point that thepreaching had as yet no end (whatever happened to Paul) becauseof the continuing absence in heaven of the Proclaimed. Theconclusion of the Gospel is equally ‘open’ to the extent that itremoves Jesus from the scene but promises the Holy Spirit tocontinue his work (24.51, 49). ‘Seeing’ the narrative Jesus bringsthis dimension into play and makes the act of reading far from amonochrome experience.

LUCAN ESCHATOLOGY

At this point we must consider Conzelmann’s thesis that Luke hasrelegated the return of Jesus from heaven to the distant future

164 THE THEMES OF LUKE’S GOSPEL

and substituted for it the period of the church which is currentlydefined by persecution.3

The hope that Jesus will return from heaven was the mainstay ofChristian eschatology throughout the first century. Jesus himselfhad expected the kingdom of God in the relatively near future (9.27). He evidently saw himself as the Messiah (9.20–1) and themembers of his inner circle as the leaders-elect of the transformedIsrael (see 22.30b). 1 Thessalonians 3.13 (cf. 2 Thessalonians 1.7)shows that the hope for his return was firmly established by themiddle of the first century when Paul (who cites an earlierformula) anticipates that Jesus will come ‘with all those who arehis own’. The belief that earth will be the place of salvation isfound in Christian literature as diverse as Romans 8.18–25 andRevelation 20.4. It represents the absolute bedrock of the primitiveChristian eschatology.

To consider Conzelmann’s theory we must first of all recognizethat the delayed return of Jesus is a problem for all NewTestament literature and not just for later documents like Luke. Itis reflected in the strong assertion of Revelation 22.20 (‘I amcoming soon!’— 90–95 CE) but also in the discussion of deathwhich Paul undertook some forty years earlier (1 Thessalonians 4.13–18). That the sense of delay was felt so early shows theimminent character of the Christian eschatological hope. RobertJewett has described the Thessalonian community as containingsome in a state of millenarian frenzy who had even given up theirjobs in expectation of the imminent end.4 Paul answers them bysaying that the end is not yet and that human death (which thechurch has begun to experience) is not a barrier to participation inthe kingdom. To say that many Christians, as Paul did, recognizedthe difficulties of eschatological fervour is by no means to concedethat first-century Christianity progressively abandoned its hope forthe return of Jesus. We can see this from Paul’s last letter,Philippians (3.20–1— ‘from heaven we expect our deliverer tocome’) and from Revelation (‘I am coming soon’; 22.20). No textgives a positive indication that the hope was abandoned in the firstcentury.

Conzelmann’s persecution hypothesis needs careful handling inits bald form. There is very little evidence that the Christians werepersecuted by the Romans in the first century—not even towardsthe end of the reign of Domitian when Luke was written. Theabsence of any determinative evidence for a Domitianic

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persecution in the book of Revelation (a contemporary text) mustbe mentioned here. Acts, it is true, documents a series of Jewishmoves against the Christians but these have the nature of localreprisals and not of persecutions as such. The Christians werecertainly misunderstood and even held in suspicion by people notof their religious persuasion. The Jews disliked them because theyproclaimed a crucified Messiah (Galatians 3.13). The Romansfailed to understand them at all. But one should not mistake socialisolationism and the misunderstanding which this provoked forpersecution. Nor should one ignore the fact that the ferventeschatology which inspired early Christianity was generallymatched by a social conservatism that viewed the existing orderwith a resigned acceptance under the belief that its eschatologicalreplacement was the task of God alone.

I have held 19.11, and the parable of the absent king which itintroduces, to be a crucial passage for Lucan eschatology. Lukecertainly acknowledges a delay in the return of Jesus but this iscounterbalanced by the assurance of the master’s return which isthe real theme of the parable. I think it is also counterbalanced bythe distance between 19.11 as originally spoken and the time theparable is presented to readers some sixty years later. It seems thatin 19.11 Luke is not so much advocating a further and protracteddelay to his readers as explaining the (by now quite substantial)delay that had occurred already. 19.12 calls the nobleman’sjourney a long one but insists he will return when he has beenappointed king. It is surely implied that the ‘long journey’ isnearing its end given that half a century or more has elapsed sincethe parable was spoken. Only the hypothesis of a proximateconsummation of eschatology explains the urgency of the warningabout judgment which dominates the second half of the parable.Readers are told to consider how they live as if they do not havemuch time for repentance. The ethical exhortation is underscoredby eschatology. The eschatology gains its force from the referenceto the ‘long journey’ in 19.12 which I have interpretedretrospectively with reference to the period between the historicalJesus and the reading of the Gospel.

We should also examine the progress of thought in chapter 21.My exegesis of this chapter made two related points. First of all,the reference to the destruction of the temple in 21.6 must bedistinguished from that to the destruction of Jerusalem in 21.20.21.6 comes last in the eschatological sequence and is preceded in


time by 21.20. The distinction is between the destruction ofJerusalem by the Romans (70 CE) and the replacement of the templeby God (at the eschatological climax). Secondly, it is remarkablehow little of Luke’s eschatological prediction remains to befulfilled. Only 21.6 and the actual climax of 21.27–8 are still-future events. Everything else has been fulfilled already. Theimplication of 21.27–8, which describes the Son of Man’s arrival,is that his appearance will mean the replacement of the presenttemple and the full emergence of the kingdom of God. Thewording of 21.28, 32 is most significant for understanding Luke’seschatology. In 21.28, Luke says that ‘when all this begins tohappen…your liberation is near’. Not only have these events begunto happen, as the readers perceive them, but many of them havebeen fulfilled already.

To this Luke adds, in repetition of 9.27, that ‘the presentgeneration will live to see it all’ (21.32). This again is indicative ofeschatological imminence. One wonders how many of the Twelvewere still alive c. 90 CE. It is by no means impossible that somewere. But it is most unlikely that all or perhaps even many of themhad survived that long; and the life expectancy of the remainingapostles cannot be regarded as substantial. This gives an urgencyto 21.32 if the words are taken at their full force. Jesus tells theTwelve that some of them will live to see his return. Luke includesthis saying in the Gospel when he could easily have removed it.This by implication sets an urgency on the return of Jesus andmilitates against Conzelmann’s view that Luke thought it would besubstantially delayed. Although Luke does not say when the returnwill happen, he does acknowledge that the conditions are ripe forit.

A further consideration supports this conclusion. We have seenthat Luke includes the Gentiles in salvation on the basis of theirfaith in Jesus. We have yet to consider the relation of Gentiles toJews in the Gospel but it is true to say Luke thinks that they formpart of the covenant people of God. Acts closes with the Gospelbeing preached in Rome and with the salvation of God offered tothe Gentiles there (Acts 28.31). This statement cannot be evaluatedapart from the Jewish material we examined in Chapter 2 whichmakes the salvation of the Gentiles a feature of the eschatologicalage. In this light Acts 21.28 looks like a declaration ofeschatological fulfilment: ‘Therefore take note that this salvationof God has been sent to the Gentiles; the Gentiles will listen’. The


inclusion of the Gentiles is what Judaism expected about the end-times. Acts states that this has taken place already so that againbelief in eschatological fulfilment emerges from Luke’s work.

In this light it is worth observing that Luke’s ethics, onwhich Conzelmann set great store for his theory of delay,frequently (but not always) have an eschatological foundation. Thesayings about food and clothing in 12.22–31 are examples of this.Jesus tells the disciples that God will supply their everydaynecessities. He links this to the command to worry about moreimportant things: ‘set your minds on the kingdom, and the restwill come to you as well’ (12.31). The demand to follow thekingdom is articulated within the framework of the ‘now and notyet’. Luke’s ethics are, absolutely and entirely, the ethics of thekingdom of God. The kingdom supplies the framework in whichthey are to be understood. The forward-looking aspect of thekingdom expects there will be a judgment for those who setthemselves against its ideals (9.26). Although Luke’s ethics, like therest of his Gospel, are neutral in their time-scale of the end, themere fact that Luke prescribes ethical regulations is not necessarilya sign he thinks that the return of Jesus will be delayed. His ethicsmust be interpreted in the broader light of the Gospel’seschatology which, as we have seen, does not lack an imminentaspect.

THE KINGDOM OF GOD

At the heart of Luke’s eschatology stands the concept of thekingdom of God. This phrase is used some thirty-one times in theGospel (and ‘kingdom’ rather more so). It denotes the full reign ofGod over Israel which is symbolized by the new covenant (22.20)and enshrined in the Jesus movement with its new understanding ofsocial relations. For Luke the kingdom of God is present in theministry of Jesus (17.20–1) but it will not become fully visibleuntil the climax of eschatology. The kingdom’s present invisibilityis symbolized by the rejection of Jesus, the prophet of thekingdom. Luke thinks the kingdom will become fully manifestwhen Jesus returns as Lord and Messiah from heaven (21.31). Thekingdom, like Jesus himself, will then make a decisive impact onthose who have rejected it.

The phrase, ‘the kingdom of God’ has an extensive backgroundin Jewish and Christian literature. The related term ‘the kingdom of


YHWH’ is used in 1 Chronicles 28.5. The notion that God is theking (the king, not a king) is a commonplace of Hebrew literature.The notion of God’s kingship, combined with the oftenbeleaguered attitude of the Hebrew people, meant that the conceptof the divine kingdom embraced much more than hopes about thesurvival of Israel as such. If Yahweh is king, it must be true to saythat there is no people or territory from which his sovereignty iswithheld. Thus Psalm 47.2 calls him the ‘great King over all theearth’. This idea is sustained and developed in the apocalypticliterature (e.g. 1 Enoch. 84.2). It is significant that it features alsoin the non-apocalyptic literature of Judaism so that it cannot beheld to be merely the fantasy of groups who deny the value of thepresent world in the hope that a better world will emerge. ThusPsalms of Solomon 17.3 say that ‘the kingdom of our God isforever over the nations in judgment’; and Testament of Moses 10.1, that ‘God’s kingdom will appear throughout his wholecreation’. Israel’s God is the universal king and the only king(hence the appearance of universalist ideas in Jewish eschatology).

In Judaism around the time of Christian origins there was aconflict of opinion as to whether the kingdom of God had alegitimate political dimension. The view that it did is found forinstance in the Qumran War Scroll which includes a passage(probably) anticipating the earthly rule of God’s people Israel overthe nations (1QM 12.7–15).5 In rabbinic literature, however, theconcept of the kingship of God is introduced in essentially non-political terms. The rabbis often say that one should ‘take the yokeof the kingdom upon oneself. By this they mean the reading andkeeping of the Torah. Perhaps this difference of opinion reflectsthe crisis of confidence for Judaism caused by the destruction of itsnational sanctuary in 70 CE. The Qumran community evidentlydisappeared around this time. The rabbinic literature was writtenafter it. A new situation inevitably brought different attitudes withit.

The ‘kingdom of God’ is certainly an eschatological concept inthe Gospels. It designates God’s final rule over all people whenIsrael would be purified and the Gentiles included in salvation. Inthe light of this Jewish background it is easy to see why Lukeshould insist that the Gentiles belong to the salvific order. Toexclude them would be to deny that God’s kingly rule extends overthe whole earth, which is effectively to deny the full sovereignty ofIsrael’s God. Luke’s God is king over all people. The ministry and


the death of Jesus are the events through which the demonstrationof God’s kingship will be secured.

For Luke, like all the New Testament writers, the ‘kingdom ofGod’ is an earthly phenomenon. It represents a transformedversion of the present order. This process of transformation isalready happening but its effects have yet to become universallyobvious. We cannot read Luke without recognizing that thekingdom means both continuity but also discontinuity with theway things are at present. The discontinuity means that the presentmust be judged by an invisible standard which will bedemonstrated only in the future when the kingdom is fully present.

Luke’s understanding of the kingdom is thus an eschatologicalone but it also has moral, social and economic implications. Thisbook would be incomplete without consideration of the question ofwhy Luke writes as he does about the kingdom of God. This is toraise a question which concerns the ambitions of the historicalJesus. Seminal research has been undertaken in this area byRichard A.Horsley who describes the situation of social unrest inwhich the Jesus movement came to birth.6 Horsley shows therewas a fundamental conflict in first-century Palestinian Judaismbetween the ruling groups on the one hand and the bulk of thepeople on the other.7 Both groups shared essentially the same setof traditions and religious assumptions but the power of the rulersmeant that they were in a position to exploit the peasants wholacked the necessary resources to resist them. This resulted in aconsiderable social unrest. Horsley notes that ‘peasant revolts mayhave been infrequent among other precommercial agrarianempires, but they were strikingly frequent in Jewish Palestine’.8

This was because of the inequalities between rich and poor whichwere so sharply focussed there at the time. Those in authorityextracted tithes, tributes and taxes from the peasants. Loan-sharkswere a familiar feature of Palestinian agrarian life in the firstcentury. When stocks of corn and oil ran out people were forced toborrow from the sharks at exorbitant rates of interest. This is nodoubt the background to the parable of the crafty steward in 16.5–7 who reduces the interest on a loan to secure an actual return.Horsley shows that the Palestinian social system was entirely basedon the phenomenon of indebtedness: ‘The vast majority ofPalestinian Jewish people would have been peasants living invillages and working the land to support the Temple, priests,Herodian régime(s), and Roman tribute as well as their own


families.’9 ‘Indebtedness’ denotes the way in which those withoutwere forced to rely on others for their daily necessities; and wherethose who had shared their resources only at a price.

Against this background, perhaps not unsurprisingly, a numberof popular prophetic movements emerged in first-centuryPalestine. The Jesus movement was one of these. Despite the factthat (classical) prophecy is often thought to have ceased withMalachi, the appearance of people like John the Baptist, Jesus, andJesus son of Ananias shows that popular prophecy was very muchalive and well in the first century CE. Jesus son of Ananias isremembered for predicting the imminent destruction of Jerusalem(see Josephus, War, 6.300–1). Horsley notes three types of‘popular prophetic movement’ in the first century CE.10 Therevolts in three Jewish districts of Palestine after the death ofHerod and the movement headed by Simon bar Giora in 68–70 CEwere led by people who were popularly acclaimed ‘kings’.Secondly, the large popular movements which occurred in themiddle of the century in Judaea were headed by self-styled‘prophets’ (see Acts 5.36). Thirdly, there were the Zealots whotried to restore a legitimate and popular hierocracy in 68 CE.These movements exercised a great influence in the popular cultureof the time.

This wide-ranging evidence provides an explanation for some ofthe titles accorded Jesus in Luke—‘Messiah’, ‘king’ and ‘prophet’among them. Whatever else they do, these titles indicate that asubversion of sorts is taking place within the social order. To calloneself ‘a prophet’ at a time when it was widely held that prophecyhad ceased was to draw attention to the message which a self-styled prophet proclaimed. The message of these prophets, as ofJesus himself, concerned the hope for social transformation andthe reshaping of attitudes which was needed for this to happen.Even more striking is the self-designation ‘king’. Kings hold powerand authority. For a peasant to call himself ‘king’ makes a strikingclaim to status. The incongruity between the title and the person’sactual status draws attention to the demands that are associatedwith the proclamation of kingship. We should never forget that thetitles of Jesus in the Gospels have a social significance as well as aplace in the history of ideas. It does not, of course, matter that insome cases (as again with Jesus) the protest stands its distance fromall forms of violence (see Josephus, War, 6.283–5). The


articulation of the protest, in a situation which does not encouragethis, is the critical thing.

This information prompts further consideration of the messageproclaimed by Luke’s Jesus. It has often been observed that‘reversal’ is a prominent theme in the Gospel. Two examples of itare the words of the Magnificat in 1.51–3 and the Beatitudes andWoes in chapter 6. Both passages anticipate the overthrow of therich and mighty and the enfranchisement of those who aredeprived. In the latter passage Luke makes Jesus effectivelyannounce that the rules that govern Galilean society are beingrewritten. An alternative perspective is offered which benefits thedisenfranchised. The kingdom of God belongs to the poor (6.20)which, in concrete social terms, means the majority of people asdistinguished from the powerful oligarchy. The kingdom as Jesusproclaims it embodies the theme of reversal. Its charter is expressedby 6.21: ‘Blessed are you who now go hungry; you will be satisfied.’Hunger was a by-product of the Palestinian economic system withits culture of dependency. Jesus articulates the vision of a newsocial order which gives expression to the belief that things can bedifferent.

In this context we should evaluate Jesus’ statements about‘hating your family’ (e.g. 14.26). These depend for their effect onhyperbole. They represent a repudiation of authority in favour of anew understanding in which the dominant earthly ‘father’ is absentand his place taken by God, the heavenly Father. Patriarchy wasthe central feature of life in first-century Palestine.11 Each villagewas composed of several extended families. This had clearimplications for social arrangements like marriage andemployment (cf. 15.11–32). The fact that each villager was moreor less ‘on the same level’ as every other meant there was littlecollective ability to resist the small number of people who had thepower to tithe and to tax them. Oppressive taxation wore downnot just individuals and families but whole communities too. Bysaying that his followers should ‘hate their families’, but that theywill receive many blessings in the present age (18.30), Jesus iseffectively saying that the rules which permitted exploitation andoppression have been altered in favour of a new way of life whichdepends on different structures of authority. Luke invites people tolive out the implications of this new vision of mutuality and toproceed on the basis of equality (cf. Galatians 3.28). The Gospelpreserves the vision of Jesus and communicates it to the Hellenistic


cities with their (rather different) set of social relations andassumptions. Part of the reader’s response is to make the linkbetween what Jesus says and the way in which their own lives arelived. One wonders how great a process of interpretation musthave taken place to make the teaching of Jesus relevant to theirnew situation.

What is said about mutuality in Luke is continued in Acts (wemust observe). The early Christian communities were known fortheir mutual provision of help for their members.12 Acts 4.32states that the Jerusalem community held its property in common,for which there are parallels in the literature of the Essenecommunity at Qumran. This mutuality, which involved thecommon ownership of property, is matched by the New Testamentview of the church as a pure community where high socialboundaries were maintained in respect of other people and wherethe threat of exclusion was used to justify the strong sense ofsolidarity that pertained among the baptized (cf. 13.25–30). Thestatement about the ‘hiddenness’ of the kingdom in Luke (17.20–1) is a way of explaining to readers how they should regard Jesus’message of social transformation. The kingdom might not bemaking an immediate and visible impact on society but this didnot mean it was either absent or deficient. Likewise, its invisibilitydoes not invalidate the demand to behave in a mutual way. Like themustard seed the kingdom of God will one day be openly perceivedand humankind in general will conform to the new visionarticulated by Jesus, much as they now adhere to the oldpatriarchal system. This future hope is expressed under thetraditional Jewish image of the messianic kingdom.

This understanding of Jesus and his preaching makes possible anew reading of the Lord’s Prayer as a passage that enshrines thecounter-cultural standards of the kingdom of God. The Christiansfirst of all call God ‘our Father’. This is an implicit rejection ofpatriarchy whereby most people in Palestine were dependent fortheir subsistence on a better-placed person or people. Jesusproposes a different understanding of society where mutuality andnot dependency is the key. ‘Thy kingdom come’ is both the formalexpression of this ideal and—we must not overlook the point—aprayer for future divine intervention that will make the newstandards fully operative. ‘Give us each day our daily bread’ is aprayer for sustenance whose full meaning is given by the phrasethat follows. ‘Forgive us our sins…as we forgive all who have done


us wrong’ represents a repudiation of the debt system where hugeprofits were made at the expense of those who could ill afford topay the interest. It is a further declaration of mutuality in whichthe reception of forgiveness is accompanied by the demand todisplay it. Perhaps, in this context, the final ‘do not put us to thetest’ has the almost sinister sense of a prayer for deliverance fromopen revolt: the final recourse of relatively deprived people whenall other forms of negotiation break down. Luke reminds hisreaders of what had happened when revolt broke out in 70 CE (21.20). He is adamant that all future change must be introduced bythe Son of Man and not by human intervention (9.26).

The people who follow Jesus are drawn mainly from the peasantclass. They include fishermen, local craftspeople and the like.These people would have shared the lot of the poor I have justdescribed. Indebtedness must have been a constant problem forthem. Indeed, it is only against such a background that the binaryoppositions of the Gospel—rich/poor, blessings/woes, king/subject—find their real meaning. Horsley suggests that:

The communities of the Jesus movement thought ofthemselves as a new social order. This was variouslysymbolized as ‘the kingdom of God’, or as an alternative new‘temple’, but one ‘not made with hands’ of which Jesus wasthe foundational cornerstone (Mark 14:58; 12:10), or as therestored ‘Israel’ indicated in the miracle stories or representedby the Twelve (Mark 5–8; 3:14; 6:7 etc.), who would be‘liberating’ or ‘saving’ the twelve tribes (Matthew 19:28/Luke22:28–30).13

It is typical of many so-called ‘millenarian movements’ that theimpending change is described only allusively in the Gospel. Lukeincludes many parables of the kingdom but he does not provide adetailed brochure of what the kingdom will be like. There is morethan one reason for this (perhaps rather surprising) absence ofinformation. In the first place articulation of the demand forchange is generally more important for millenarian prophets thanproviding a catalogue of the projected benefits. This is because thecrucial thing in such movements is the achievement of enoughcohesion to articulate dissatisfaction in a society which does notencourage protest. Luke advocates the vision of the kingdom assomething being realized. He draws attention to the need for


change in his succession of binary opposites. The vision of thefuture, and not its actual blueprint, inspires him.

The second reason for the absence of detailed information lies inthe early Christian belief that the future lies in the plan andintention of God. This means that it cannot be second-guessed byhuman beings. Luke continues to advocate belief in the return ofJesus and constructs a scheme of eschatology in which this is seenas the decisive event. It doubtless seemed presumptuous tospeculate in detail on what God’s intervention would bring. Lukeretains a properly biblical emphasis on judgment but follows theHebrew writers in his reluctance to force God’s hand by sayinghow God will act. At present, the disciples of Jesus must questionthe beliefs and assumptions of their society. In the future, God willintervene in the person of the Lord Jesus and do what humanbeings cannot do, by rooting out the causes of oppression—whichLuke leaves no doubt are the powerful people (1.52)—and byremoving patriarchy in its entirety, replacing it with the messianickingdom of his Son.

JEWS AND GENTILES IN LUKE

Luke unquestionably reflects Jewish eschatological beliefs. Wehave seen this in 13.34–5. Chapter 22 develops this approachwhen, in 22.20, Jesus says that his death inaugurates the newcovenant, which for Luke has clear eschatological overtones (notleast in terms of the forgiveness of sins); and in 22.30, where Jesusdesignates the tribal heads of the restored Israel in advance of hisforthcoming death. Luke cannot be understood at all without arecognition of what these Jewish hopes contribute to the plot.

It is certain also that Luke takes an interest in the Gentiles.Whether or not he is more interested in the Gentiles than are theother Synoptists (which has sometimes been claimed) is lessimportant than the demonstration that, for Luke, the Gentiles areassessed as regards salvation in precisely the same terms as theJews. Time and again in the Gospel it is the faith which peopleshow in Jesus which results in their healing. This is perhaps mostobvious in the statement of the Roman centurion in chapter 7, ‘saythe word and my servant will be cured’ (7.7), to which Jesusresponds: ‘not even in Israel have I found such faith’ (7.9). Thatthe demand for faith is such a frequent element in the miraclesreminds the reader that this is the way in which one gains initial


entry to the Christian community. The same is true in Acts. In Acts14.9 the Lystran cripple is said to be healed because he has thefaith (sc. in Jesus) that he will be cured. It is implied that, withoutsuch faith, there would be no cure. There is even perhaps the sensein which is true to say that, for Luke, the miracles are parables ofwhat it means to receive salvation in Jesus. Those whom Jesusheals are types, by which I mean undeveloped characters, whosehealing shows that the eschatological vision of Isaiah 61 (4.18–19)is being realized. It is implied that, in responding well to Jesus,these people respond to the kingdom of God. They are included inthe Christian community because that community is made up ofpeople who have faith in Jesus.

The question that has often been asked is whether Luke sees theGentiles as the replacement for the Jews as God’s people andwhere in consequence the Jews fit into Luke’s economy ofsalvation. Some scholars think that Luke makes the Gentiles thechosen people of God and regards the Jews as excluded from theoriginal divine promise to Israel.14 This seems to me an incautiousassessment of the evidence. It is based especially on two passages inActs. Acts 13.46 reports the words of Paul and Barnabas: ‘It wasnecessary… that the word of God should be declared to you first.But since you reject it and judge yourselves unworthy of eternallife, we now turn to the Gentiles.’ 18.6 is similar in tone. Paulsays: ‘From now on I shall go to the Gentiles!’ But this is not thecomplete picture of the Jews and the Gentiles which emerges fromLuke’s corpus. A different attitude is suggested by two otherpassages. In the Nunc Dimittis Simeon states that the coming ofJesus is an act of deliverance which represents ‘a light that willbring revelation to the Gentiles, and glory to your people Israel’(Luke 2.32). Here, the Gentiles and Israel are mentioned asparallel constructs, quite without the belief that the one hassupplanted the other. At the end of Acts, Paul ‘proclaimed thekingdom of God and taught the facts about the Lord Jesus Christquite openly and without hindrance’ (Acts 28.31). This is afterLuke says that he has preached to the local Jewish leaders (Acts 28.17). Of the results of this preaching it is said: ‘Some were wonover by his arguments; others remained unconvinced’ (Acts 28.24).Acts closes with Paul preaching as much to the Jews as to theGentiles and with an acknowledged Jewish response in Rome. Onecan hardly conclude from this that Luke thinks the Jews are leftbehind in God’s offer of salvation. They continue to feature there,


otherwise Paul’s preaching to them is inexplicable. Acts 13.46 isprobably better understood as a declaration of Paul’s missionpolicy and not as a theological statement that the Jews have beenexcluded from the kingdom.15

Luke is nevetheless emphatic that the eschatological climax willtake place according to a fundamentally Jewish ‘scheme. Thisscheme is determined by the fulfilment of Hebrew prophecy wherehopes about the temple and the restoration of the tribespredominate. The impression gained from this, as from Paul inRomans 9–11, is that the Gentiles are not so much the replacementfor Israel as their concomitants whose inclusion is itself thefulfilment of prophecy. The Gentiles are incorporated in salvationbecause this is what Jewish eschatological tradition believed wouldhappen at the end-time. This does not mean, either that the Jewsare excluded from salvation, or that the eschatological hope hasbeen transferred from its fundamentally Jewish context. Luke, likePaul, places Jews and Gentiles on an equal footing before God andmakes the response of faith in Jesus determinative. This is a directfulfilment of the context in which the words in 19.46a (‘my houseshall be a house of prayer’) were originally spoken: ‘So too withthe foreigners who give their allegiance to me, to minister to meand love my name and become my servants, all who keep thesabbath unprofaned and hold fast to my covenant: these shall Ibring to my holy hill and give them joy in my house of prayer.Their offerings and sacrifices will be acceptable on my altar; formy house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’ (Isaiah56.6–7). The Gentiles, included in salvation with the Jews, formpart of the prophetic hope that is cited by Jesus himself.

It would be rash, therefore, to suggest that Luke sees Israel asexcluded from its original status as the people of God. Having saidthis, the status of the people of God is undoubtedly redefined inthe Gospel. The Gentiles now form as much part of God’s peopleas the Jews. The only relevant criterion is that of faith. The tribalpresidents are nevertheless all Jewish (22.30). This is an indicationof the way that Jewish structures continue to dominate Luke’seschatology.

AN ESSAY IN THE HISTORY OF SALVATION?

One of the most influential approaches to Luke has been HansConzelmann’s suggestion that the Gospel embodies an


understanding of ‘salvation history’ where God’s salvific action isbroken up into three discernible stages: ‘We see also how, byremoving the End to a greater distance, a more reflective attitudeemerges, as a result of which the individual events are separated.This development is parallel to the other developments, by whichthe past is broken up into its separate component parts. Thus wesee how the whole story of salvation, as well as the life of Jesus inparticular, is now objectively set out and described according to itssuccessive stages.’16 The three stages which Conzelmann has inmind are the periods of Israel, Jesus and the church. This schemedetermines the original German title of Conzelmann’s book which,if translated literally into English, is called ‘The Middle of Time’.

Part of the force of Conzelmann’s argument rests with the factof Acts. Acts was rather obviously conceived as a companion tothe Gospel. This implies that Luke thought the writing of the Gospelby itself was not enough. Acts notionally describes the history ofthe primitive church but the portrait is a selective one and we haveseen that Luke’s writing of history as such is by no meansnecessarily an indication of his belief in the substantially delayedreturn from heaven of Jesus. I have argued that the conclusion ofActs with Paul’s preaching in Rome is itself an eschatological sign.The whole history that Acts tells is an eschatological one. Theaccent in the two-volumed series falls much more on ‘the eventsthat have taken place among us’ (Luke 1.1) than on the unspecifiedperiod which must elapse before the end. This retrospectiveinterest is confirmed by my reading of Luke 21 where Lukepresents many of the eschatological signs as accomplished already.

It is certainly true to say that Luke discerns different stages inthe redemptive process. This is illustrated most obviously by 16.16: ‘The law and the prophets were until John: since then, thegood news of the kingdom of God is proclaimed, and everybodyforces a way in.’ This verse distinguishes the period of the kingdomof God from the history of Judaism which preceded it. John isranked with the law and the prophets on the grounds that heheralds the kingdom (although he is not thereby excluded from thekingdom). The kingdom of God is distinguished from earlierJudaism (with the qualification introduced by 16.17) because itrepresents the eschatological age, not least in terms of the socialconvictions that Jesus articulates. This verse seems to acknowledgetwo crucial periods in Jewish history, not three. The decisivechange comes with Jesus for with him the kingdom of God is held


to be present. The preaching of the church is a continuation of themission of Jesus and not a tertium genus for it stands on the sameside of the divide established by 16.16. The end of Acts will showthat history is moving towards its conclusion and offers littlesupport for the view that the end will be substantially delayed.

The distinction between ‘then’ and ‘now’ in 16.16 is thus the keyto Luke’s understanding of history. Although Luke recognizes thatthe (earthly) life of Jesus lay in the past, and that his return istaking longer to happen than had been expected, it is probablywrong to distinguish too precisely between the time of Jesus andthe period of the church in his work. Both of them belong to theeschatological age. The conclusions of Luke’s two books show thatdifferent stages in the eschatological process have been completed.At the end of Luke, the kingdom has been announced and the newcovenant inaugurated. By the end of Acts, the offer of salvationhas been made in the Roman capital and the Gentiles are includedin the offer of salvation. This means that the age is drawingtowards its eschatological climax. The real distinction in Luke isbetween the periods of Judaism and of Christianity, itseschatological fulfilment.

One should therefore perhaps beware of Conzelmann’s three-agescheme given the contention of this book that Luke has not abandoned an imminent eschatology.

LUCAN ETHICS

We have seen that Luke includes a fair amount of ethical teaching.This is distributed across the Gospel, sometimes in concentratedpassages. Ethics in Luke are mostly attributed to Jesus as speaker.Luke is not first and foremost a compendium of Christian ethicsbut a Gospel which tells a story. The ethical sections form one partof that narrative. They reveal the authority of Jesus as a teacherfrom the recent past whose words are decisive for the readers ofthe Gospel. The ethics cohere with and support the Gospel’s centraltheme that the kingdom of God has arrived. They have nomeaning apart from this consideration.

The ethics of Luke’s Jesus are grounded in eschatology. Anexample of this is Jesus’ attitude to the question of divorce. Mosespermitted divorce for unchastity in Deuteronomy 24.4. Thehistorical Jesus never, so far as we know, annulled the Mosaicregulation. Luke records him as intensifying it. In 16.18, Jesus says


that: ‘a man who divorces his wife and marries another commitsadultery; and anyone who marries a woman divorced from herhusband commits adultery’. The implication of this saying is that,in the Christian dispensation, those who become divorced are notfree to remarry. This apparently ‘hard-line’ attitude is probably tobe understood against the backcloth of the belief that the kingdomwas impending. The nearness of the kingdom challenges humanrelationships and leads to the belief that marital relationshipsrepresent a complication in view of its imminence.

Luke retains belief in the return of Jesus despite hisacknowledgement of delay (19.11). This consciousness of delaydoes in fact affect his presentation of ethics, as we can see forinstance in 17.3b–4 which I have suggested represents thebeginning of a Christian penitential system. Nevertheless, conceptssuch as patience (8.15) and readiness (21.36) are crucial ones inthe Gospel. Readers are constantly reminded that, since they do notknow when the Son of Man will appear, they must holdthemselves in readiness lest they be excluded from the kingdom. Itis doubtless also true to say that these Lucan virtues lendthemselves to a somewhat different interpretation once the hope forthe imminent consummation of eschatology recedes into thebackground. They pass over into the cardinal virtues which theChristian tradition has long enjoined. In this sense, Luke doesmuch to resource the subsequent tradition. We should not,however, let this observation obscure the original eschatologicalfocus of his ethics.

In Acts one finds that, as in Paul, the concept of the indwellingSpirit is the major ethical impetus. The Spirit is God’s gift toreplace the ascended Jesus in the Christian communities (Luke 24.49). Time and again in Acts we read of the Spirit motivating thefollowers of Jesus in their mission and evangelism. His working isaccompanied by powerful miracles. Perhaps it is true to say thatthis dimension is not so prominent in Luke. One might be temptedto explain this difference with reference to a passage from theFourth Gospel: ‘The Spirit had not yet been given, because Jesushad not yet been glorified’ (John 7.39). Luke preserves thehistorical sense that the Spirit is given only after the ascension ofJesus. The Spirit in Luke resides especially with Jesus and inspireshis proclamation of the kingdom. It is important to observe,however, that references to the Spirit helping Christian believersare not entirely absent there. 12.12 says of believers on trial for


their faith in Jesus: ‘When the time comes the Holy Spirit willinstruct you what to say’. Here, we find the perspective of the Actsof the Apostles read back into the Gospel of Luke.

An area for special consideration is the question of what extentLuke regards the Jewish Law (with its moral, as well as other,precepts) as binding on his readers. 16.17 states that the Law is byno means abrogated but in practice it plays little part in what Jesustells his disciples. There is an obvious difference here from whatMatthew’s Jesus says in Matthew chapter 5. The emphasis in Lukefalls much more strongly on Jesus as the teacher of ethicalprinciples. Perhaps this is more a reflection of Luke’s orientation tothe Hellenistic world than a fundamental antipathy to the Law ofMoses. The different orientation is evident again in the Lucanregulation about divorce (16.18). Jesus says (16.17) that ‘it iseasier for heaven and earth to come to an end than for one letterof the law to lose its force’; but he goes on to offer his ownregulation about divorce which represents an intensification of theMosaic rule, and not a simple continuation of it (16.18). Luke hereshows no interest in the contemporary rabbinic understanding ofMoses which is the major feature of the Matthaean treatment ofthe question of divorce (Matthew 5.31–2). If Luke writes with aknowledge of Matthew, we should probably regard this as aqualification of Matthew’s perspective in this respect. Thequalification shows a willingness to set rabbinic debate to one sideand to present Jesus as an ethical teacher whose sayings relate tothe kingdom of God.

Ethical teaching is imparted also by the narrative in Luke. Theparable of the good Samaritan demonstrates the need for love (as acriterion that over-rides other distinctions). The parable of Divesand Lazarus warns against the selfish love of riches whichpromotes the disenfranchisement of others. Ethical admonitionseems to be the point of parables such as these. They demonstratethe kind of behaviour that is appropriate to the kingdom.

Although it is wrong to call Luke a political ‘tract’, still less a‘manifesto’, the Gospel does include material which explains thatthe Romans (and all educated pagans) have nothing to fear fromthe Christians. The background to this strand is the generalsuspicion in which the Christians were held in the first century.Luke records Jesus as teaching that Caesar should receive his due(20.25) and he insists that Pilate, Herod and more than oneRoman centurion find Jesus an innocent and even an admirable


character. We should probably not suppose that Luke was writtenfor those beyond the Christian community but the fact that suchinformation is included shows that the Gospel addresses importantquestions of civic loyalty and service, given that Christians sawthemselves as members of the kingdom of God who awaited aheavenly Messiah. Luke advocates a civic conservatism in whichChristians, in their attitude to the state, are told to accept things asthey are—but with the scarcely veiled indication that a change isimpending which supplies the logic for the Christian questioningof the values of the social order.

Finally, we must consider the extent to which Luke’s ethicalstance represents a change from the ethical position likely to havebeen advanced by the historical Jesus. I argued earlier that Jesus’ethics were dominated by the belief that the kingdom of Godrepresented an alternative model of society: one in which thetraditional concept of patriarchy, with its basis in the village unit ofrural Palestine, was being replaced by the new belief in mutualityand the fatherhood of God. The basis of Pauline Christianity, towhich Luke’s Gospel is clearly related, is the city and not thePalestinian village. The kind of society one finds in the Asian citieswas rather different from Palestine. Christianity in the Romancities was principally fostered in ‘the household’. A Roman‘household’ was a much broader entity than the modern European‘nuclear family’. It included slaves, former slaves, businessassociates and tenants. Wayne Meeks describes the archaeologicalevidence for such house-holds which has been discovered inPompeii and on Delos: ‘The floor plans of some of the houses thathave been excavated…can be read as a physical diagram of some ofthese relationships: private rooms and offices for the head of thehouse; a section of the house probably for the women or children;apartments for slaves; rented rooms; on the street side a shop ortwo, perhaps a tavern or even a hotel, sometimes connecting withthe atrium; and, centrally located, a dining room in which thepaterfamilias might enjoy the company of his equals and friendsfrom other households, or entertain his clientela, or do both atonce (with each assigned his fitting place).’17

We can make sense of a passage such as 14.26 (the call to hateone’s family) on the lips of Jesus under the assumption that he isspeaking in hyperbolic terms about the renewal of society and notabout relations between individuals as such. One wonders,however, what Luke’s urban readers would have made of the


command to hate one’s family for the sake of the kingdom. Theverse has been compared with a Greek philosophical tradition,reaching back to Socrates, which devalues family loyalties in thename of a singleminded devotion to truth. That does not,however, make it any easier to translate 14.26 into the language ofcity social relations in the first century. The palpable fact is thatPauline Christians derived much support from their ‘households’,or families, and that these were the nucleus of the religion as itdeveloped in the Hellenistic cities. It is probably true to say thatcertain aspects of Jesus’ ethics proved as confusing in the firstcentury as they do today. This confusion was due to the shift fromthe village to the urban setting which happened as Christianityexpanded beyond the confines of Palestine.

Luke himself is not unmindful of this shift. One of his favouriteimages is the dinner-party where Jesus sits and talks, andsometimes works miracles. This presents Jesus in the familiarHellenistic guise of the teacher. It is here that much ethicalteaching is imparted. The first half of chapter 14 is an example ofthis approach. Jesus is dining with a Pharisee when he noticesguests trying to secure the places of honour (14.7). He tells theparable of the wedding feast in which the host demotes a guest. Thisleads to the conclusion (14.11) that ‘everyone who exalts himselfwill be humbled; and whoever humbles himself will be exalted’.The conclusion is reinforced in the saying about inviting the poor,the crippled, the lame and the blind (14.13) which directly echoesthe citation of Isaiah 61 in 4.18–19. It is in turn followed byanother parable of a wedding feast which the original guests refuseto attend (14.15–25).

The fact that Luke is so conspicuously interested in partiesshows how far the ethics of the city undergird his Gospel. Jesusappears here as a dinner-party speaker who uses dinner-partyillustrations to undergird the call for humility. This suggests ratherstrongly that the call for the abandonment of household structureshas not been heeded. We do not know the precise circumstances towhich Luke’s Gospel was addressed but I have suggested(following Dawsey) that they were such that the author deemedthe readers in need of a reminder about humility and service. 14.11to this extent appears to stand at the ethical heart of the Gospel.Characteristically, Luke repeats it in 18.14 to reinforce the call forhumility in the minds of his readers.


It is fascinating to speculate on how 14.11 might be translatedinto concrete social terms as regards the Lucan communities. Itpresupposes a situation where some had tried to claim a greaterposition than they were entitled to. We must ask who is criticizedhere. It is tempting initially to conclude that the saying is setagainst the relatively poor who are trying to use Christiancommonality as an excuse for acting above their station. But thisconclusion must almost certainly be resisted. It is not normal forslaves to be invited to a wedding feast. They generally wait ontables. Those who are criticized by the parable are more likely themiddle-placed people who think they have much to gain bycontact with the paterfamilias. The parable potentially applies tothe paterfamilias too for one can conceive of situations where hewould be a relatively junior member of a social gathering. Theparable and the appended saying are more likely addressed tothose nearer the top of the Christian household than at thebottom. They warn such people not to presume on their socialsuperiority in dealing with other people, including members oftheir own household. This brings Luke close to what Paul says inGalatians 3.28 that ‘there is no such thing as Jew and Greek, slaveand free, male and female; for you are all one person in ChristJesus’. The lesson which Christian households had to learn,apparently, was that social position was a subordinate factor tothe common status that one enjoyed in Christ. (We shouldobserve, however, that it evidently never occurred to the earlyChristians that slavery should be abolished.)

THE TEMPLE

I return, finally, to the temple which I have held to be a majortheme in Luke. The question arises of why Jesus should expresssuch vehemence towards the holy building. Part, but only part, ofthe answer lies in the observation that he is following theprecedent of Jeremiah. In order to understand the full reason forhis antipathy, we must consider the comparatively short history ofthe building in question.

The first temple was built by Solomon in the tenth century BCE.It was subject to continual alteration during the four centuries ofits existence and destroyed by the Babylonians in 587 BCE. Whenthe Israelites returned from exile in 537 BCE the temple remaineddesolate while other parts of the city were rebuilt. This is the


situation criticized by Haggai whose chiding was instrumental inthe reconstruction of the temple in 520 BCE. This temple in turnwas desecrated by Antiochus Epiphanes in the second century BCE(the event described in the book of Daniel). It was rededicated andprogressively fortified under the Hasmonaean dynasty. This,however, did not prevent its invasion by Pompey in 63 BCE nor itscapture by Herod the Great in 37 BCE.

Herod set about rebuilding the temple according to a grandiosescheme. Although he decided, on the basis of the Hebrew Bible,that the temple building must have the same dimensions as itspredecessor, he decided to raise the platform to create an immenseedifice that dwarfed what had stood there before. The temple itselftook only eighteen months to construct. The whole project, bycontrast, took forty-six years as we know from John 2.20.

This means that Herod’s grand design was finished barely yearsbefore the ministry of Jesus. Herod did not live to see it finished.This is the temple that Luke mentions. Its construction would havebeen a familiar sight to everyone who journeyed to Jerusalem, asJesus did. The temple to this extent was the living and permanentembodiment of the Herodian dynasty. It symbolized the burden oftaxation which had been imposed to fund its erection (cf. JosephusAnt. 17.205, 317–21). Herod even plundered David’s tomb andstole 3,000 talents to do this (Josephus Ant. 16.179–82). One canimagine that Jesus might have developed a natural antipathy to theHerodian temple because it was a living demonstration of an orderwhich he considered exploitative and unsavoury. This might inturn explain why he condemned the present temple in 13.35, andhoped for a perfect replacement which God would introduce. Theexploitative nature of the social structures in first-century Palestinemust not be ignored in the attempt to reconstruct the backgroundto the Gospels. They do much to explain why Luke says that thetemple must be replaced (but not, significantly, removed).


Chapter 6A reading of readings

The final chapter of this book sets out to examine some of the, bynow, quite substantial secondary literature on Luke. Only azealous research student can honestly claim to have readeverything that there is. I am happy to plead my own deficiency inthis area. The tide of scholarship has not begun to recede. Ifanything, the breakers are coming in even faster than before.1

What follows is therefore a selective reading which examines onlysome of the books and commentaries that have been produced inthe wake of Conzelmann. I hope, however, that I have managed toinclude many of the important works. I shall try to explain brieflywhat they say and in places add my own commentary to theargument. I begin with books about Luke and proceed at the end ofthe chapter to commentaries on Luke.

CONZELMANN (1953, 1960)

No-one who makes a serious study of Luke can ignore the work ofHans Conzelmann. Conzelmann’s Die Mitte der Zeit (1953),which was translated into English under the title The Theology ofSt Luke (1960), advocates a view of the Gospel as havingabandoned imminent eschatology in favour of a view of ‘salvationhistory’ in which the period of the church is regarded as asubstantial one and the return of Jesus far from an imminentpossibility. In this context Conzelmann draws attention to Lucanethics, particularly the virtue of endurance, as an important factorwhich sustained the church during a period of persecution.

It is not perhaps said often enough that Conzelmann’s bookdoes not make for easy reading. It is neither a guide to Luke’sthought nor a fullscale commentary on Luke (or reading of Luke)but a redaction-critical study which examines the way that Luke

handles his received material to produce a new story about Jesus.The following sentence is typical of Conzelmann’s approach. In hisdiscussion of Luke 21 Conzelmann observes: ‘Whereas Mark goeson to give a fuller description of the eschatological events, Lukenow gives a polemical excursus about matters which aremistakenly included among the eschatological events, namely thedestruction of Jerusalem and the Temple. In this way eschatologyis lifted out of any historical context, and is removed from allevents which take place within history. Thus the apocalypticallusion in Mark xiii, 14 disappears, because one cannot “read” ofsuch a thing (N.B. Luke’s concept of Scripture) and because it hasnothing to do with the Eschaton’ (p. 128).

Here Conzelmann explains how Luke modifies Mark to providea new explanation of eschatology. Leaving aside the question ofwhether Conzelmann is right in his exegesis of Luke 21, thecitation shows his redactional interest lies in Luke’s handling of hissources. For a generation that is accustomed to a broader style ofinterpretation this approach can seem a little specialized or evenrestricted.

Conzelmann’s book falls into five parts. The first part is a studyof ‘geographical elements in the composition of Luke’s Gospel’ (pp.18–94). Here, the author offers an exegetical study which notes themain features of the text. No conclusion as such is offered; thematerial has the air of a preliminary exegesis which paves the wayfor further discussion.

The second part (pp. 95–136) deals with the question of Luke’seschatology. Here Conzelmann advances his well-known thesis thata change has taken place in Luke’s understanding of the ‘lastdays’. ‘If we wish to see the peculiar features of his conception, wehave to reckon with discrepancies between the ideas in the sourcesand his own ideas…. For example, in the quotation from Joel inthe story of Pentecost (Acts ii, 17ff.), the Spirit is thought of as asign of the End, in the source and also in Luke, but theinterpretation is different in each case. In their original sense the“last days” have not yet been expanded into a longer epoch, whichis what happens in Luke’s conception of the Spirit and of theChurch…. The Spirit Himself is no longer the eschatological gift,but the substitute in the meantime for the possession of ultimatesalvation’ (p. 95). By this Conzelmann means that Luke has alteredhis received understanding of eschatology to accord with his ownbelief that the return of Jesus will be delayed. ‘As the End is still

A READING OF READINGS 187

far away, the adjustment to a short time of waiting is replaced by a“Christian life” of long duration, which requires ethical regulationand is no longer dependent upon a definite termination’ (p. 132).

This view is developed in part 3 of the book which Conzelmanncalls ‘God and Redemptive History’ (pp. 137–69). ‘As the life of theworld continues, there arise certain problems concerning therelation of the Church to its environment, which had remainedhidden at the beginning because of the belief that the End wasimminent. It is a question mainly of the relationship of the Churchwith Judaism and with the Empire…. Luke…lays as the foundationof his defence of the Church a comprehensive consideration of itsgeneral position in the world; he fixes its position in respect ofredemptive history and deduces from this the rules for its attitudeto the world. This is an original achievement’ (p. 137).Conzelmann argues further (p. 150) that Luke thinks history hasthree phases: the period of Israel, represented by the Law and theProphets; the period of Jesus, which gives a foretaste of futuresalvation; and the period between the coming of Jesus and hisParousia or return, the age of the church and the Spirit, whichLuke never says will be short. This places Jesus in the centre ofhistory, hence the original German title of the book. Conzelmannthinks that only the idea of the people of God, and not the detailsof Israel’s history, are found in Luke’s interpretation so that thechurch is now the people of God (p. 167).

Part 4 (‘The Centre of History’, pp. 170–206) deals with theplace of Jesus in the divine purpose. For Luke Jesus is already onearth Christ, Son and Lord (p. 176) but his subordinate position toGod is maintained as a matter of principle (p. 177). The ascensionis a critical moment because it marks the limit of Jesus’ stay onearth and the beginning of his heavenly reign. From now on, Jesusneeds a substitute for his ‘real presence’, which is supplied by theSpirit who is given to the church (p. 204). Conzelmann notes, Ithink correctly, that ‘[Luke] is no longer aware of the originalpeculiarities of titles such as “Son of Man”, etc. He has taken themover from the tradition and interprets them according to his ownconceptions’ (pp. 170–1). The complex of events, Resurrection-AscensionPentecost, forms a clear division between the two epochs.Before his exaltation Christ is the only bearer of the Spirit, but in aspecial sense, for he is not under the Spirit…. His endowment withthe Spirit is differentiated from the later outpouring upon thecommunity by the very manner in which the Spirit appears. He

188 A READING OF READINGS

comes to him in “bodily form”. Jesus is not baptized “with fire”, asis the community’ (p. 179). The place of Jesus in the course ofredemptive history does not depend on any idea of pre-existence…In the fore-ground stands the definition of the relation to Israeland, of course, to the subsequent period of the Church’ (p.185).

The fifth and final part of the book assesses the theme of ‘Manand Salvation: The Church’ (pp. 207–34). ‘Luke does not directlydefine the position of the individual in the course of redemptivehistory. Instead his position is defined as a mediated one, for hestands within the Church, and thereby in a definite phase of thestory. The Church transmits the message of salvation…. Thistransmission by the Church makes it possible for the individual’sremoteness in time from the saving events of past and future, fromthe time of Jesus and from the Parousia, to be no hindrance tohim. Instead of the nearness of these events there is the Churchwith its permanent function. In the Church we stand in a mediatedrelationship to the saving events…and at the same time in animmediate relationship to them, created by the Spirit, in whom wecan invoke God and the name of Christ; in other words, the Spiritdwells in the Church, and is imparted through its means of graceand its office-bearers’ (p. 208). The church constitutes the thirdhistorical period and its life is determined by persecution (pp. 209–10). ‘Both the content of the proclamation and also the act ofproclaming are described in stereotype concepts which are currentin the Church and therefore do not require any closer definition bythe one who employs them’ (p. 218). Conzelmann proceeds toexamine these stereotyped phrases (pp. 218–25). ‘With the declineof the expectation of an imminent Parousia, the theme of themessage is no longer the coming of the Kingdom, from which thecall to repentance arises of its own accord, but now, in the time ofwaiting, the important thing is the “way” of salvation, the “way”into the Kingdom…. Here Luke gives greater attention to theindividual element in the hope, the personal assurance of one’sresurrection, than to the cosmological element. The message toman reveals to him his situation, by informing him of theJudgement to come and by revealing the fact that he is a sinner’ (p.227). ‘The fact of the future life is no longer dependent on theimminence of God’s reign; and as a promise it can surmount thepassage of time’ (p. 230).

Conzelmann’s book draws attention to the issue of eschatologyas the most significant theme that Luke reworks from his sources.


Conzelmann argues that Luke does this because he is writing for atime when the delayed return of Jesus was coming to beaccepted, albeit with resignation. The emergence of a new situationmeans that a different response is needed than that provided by theearlier Gospel(s). Luke’s shift in understanding has the effect ofplacing the historical Jesus in the middle of history, not in itsimmediate climax, and of drawing attention to the church as thebody that proclaims the message of salvation and is guided by theHoly Spirit who replaces the ascended Jesus on earth.

My reading of Luke takes a different view of his eschatology. Iagree with Conzelmann that Luke, like all primitive Christianwriters, maintains a prudent ambiguity about when Jesus willreturn but I think that the references to delay are retrospective anddo not necessarily anticipate a further hiatus. I base my argumenton chapters 19 and 21 in particular. 19.11–27 is a story told byJesus about the noblemen who goes on a long journey. This storycounters the view that the kingdom of God will appear when Jesusreaches Jerusalem (19.11). I think this refers the ‘long journey’ of19.12 to the period between the ministry of Jesus and the readers’own present. This is why the emphasis falls on the certainty of thenobleman’s return as king (19.15) and the judgment that willensue from this. The parable implicitly warns the readers to expectthe king’s return given that his absence has been a long one. Icannot but find an implied note of imminence here. The warningof judgment also seems set against the view that there will be afurther delay. I thus agree with Conzelmann that 19.11 is asignificant verse for Lucan eschatology but disagree with him aboutthe time to which it refers.

Nor can I agree with Conzelmann’s interpretation of Luke 21.Conzelmann thinks that ‘eschatology is lifted out of any historicalcontext, and is removed from all events which take place withinhistory’ (p. 128). My exegesis, by contrast, shows that chapter 21is conceived with history fully in mind. The focal point of thechapter, which determines its interpretation, is 21.6–7. Here Jesuspredicts that the stones of the temple will be cast down. Thedisciples ask when this will happen. Jesus replies with the Lucanversion of the Synoptic eschatological discourse. 21.6 must not beconfused with the Roman destruction of Jerusalem which ismentioned by 21.20. 21.20 has the form of an historical reviewand describes an event which has taken place already. Thedestruction of Jerusalem is thereby made a sign of the end. It is


followed in Luke’s scheme by portents in the heavens (21.25)which are said to herald the Son of Man’s return from heaven (21.27). The discourse concludes with the comment: ‘when all of thisbegins to happen, stand upright and hold your heads high, becauseyour liberation is near’ (21.28).

This progress of thought means that, far from excluding thehistorical past from eschatology, Luke makes it part of the signs ofthe end. Luke alone of the Synoptists includes a reference to theRoman destruction of Jerusalem. This addition is a striking one. Itmakes the recent past a sign that Jesus will return. The key tounderstanding the chapter lies in the recognition that 21.6 must beinterpreted with reference to 13.35 and 20.17 and not to 21.20.Eschatology dominates the picture, and the picture is constructedon the basis of an historical review.

I have also criticized Conzelmann’s view that the Lucanchurches are characterized by ‘persecution’. This needs morecautious statement. It is inaccurate to speak of Roman persecutionof the Christians in the first century (except for 64 CE). Thisincludes the reign of Domitian where the evidence for a formalpersecution is scanty. There was, no doubt, local Jewish agitationthroughout the first century and perhaps other sporadicopposition. But whether this can be called ‘persecution’ is an openquestion and I should prefer to use the phrase ‘local opposition’.An accurate picture of Luke’s churches must also examine recentresearch, especially that undertaken by Wayne Meeks, about thesocial position of the Christians in the cities of the Roman empire.There was something in their self-understanding which encouragedthe maintenance of high social boundaries in respect of outsiders.These were reinforced by the rituals of the Christian religion, notleast by the ritual of baptism. We should not confuse the Christiansense of being a small, rather inward-looking community with theexperience of persecution—especially not on the basis of theminority consciousness that emerges from much Christianliterature.

I have also raised questions about Conzelmann’s view of Lucanethics and ecclesiology. I am by no means convinced that Luke hasremoved the eschatological basis of the ethical imperative althoughI accept that in places eschatology is not heavily foregrounded inthe demand for ethical action. I think that the Beatitudes andWoes in chapter 6 represent the heart of Luke’s ethical teaching.The reason given there for adopting humble behaviour is that only


this will secure final membership of the kingdom of God. Thatethics are related to the kingdom, as they are in the Lord’s Prayer,is left in no doubt by this passage. The correlative of ethical laxityis eschatological judgment by the Son of Man (9.26). Luke warnshis readers about this point (13.25b).

BARRETT (1961)

The next year C.K.Barrett published his short book, Luke theHistorian in Recent Study (London: Epworth Press, 1961). Thisbook, as its title suggests, is an examination of Luke’s claim towrite history. Barrett spawned a succession of later studies, not theleast of which is Loveday Alexander’s work on the Lucan Prefacewhich I mentioned in Chapter 1. Barrett’s book is now perhapsrather dated; but it deserves study because of its articulation of awell-known case, and also for its discussion of literature which hadpreviously been available only in German.

MARSHALL (1970)

We jump almost a decade to consider the work of HowardMarshall. Marshall’s book has in some sense been superseded bylater literature but I mention it here because it continues to be usedby students; especially by those of an Evangelical persuasion.

Marshall includes a discussion of the nature of history and areview of Luke’s qualities as an historian. The answer thatMarshall reaches is (predictably) a conservative one. Againstthose, like J.C. Hurd, who question the historical value of Acts asa source for early Christianity, Marshall comments: ‘we do notwant to make exaggerated claims for his reliability, nor to suggestthat his views of the historian’s task were identical with those ofthe modern historian. But it is unfair to suggest that he is athoroughly tendentious and unreliable writer, freely rewriting thehistory of the early church in the interests of his own theology…there is in our judgment sufficient evidence in his favour todemand a more positive evaluation of his historical ability’ (p. 75).

It is worth mentioning in this connection, although it technicallylies beyond the scope of this book, that the question of thereliability of the Lucan writings has been examined much morerecently in a collection of studies published under the auspices ofTyndale House in Cambridge with which Marshall has


connections. The question of ‘Acts and the Ancient HistoricalMonograph’ is examined by Darryl W.Palmer in the volume editedby B.W. Winter and A.D.Clarke, The Book of Acts in its AncientLiterary Setting (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1993). The finalvolume in this series had yet to be published when this book waswritten.

JERVELL (1972)

I mention briefly the work of Jacob Jervell. His Luke and thePeople of God (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1972) has in many waysalso been superseded by later literature, but Jervell is a perceptivecommentator whose insights deserve consideration. Jervelldiscusses the problem of ‘the restoration of Israel and salvation forthe Gentiles’ (pp. 41–68), where he argues that Luke knows onlyone Israel, i.e. the Jewish people, so that the Gentile mission formsa difficult problem for him (p. 68). He thinks Luke argues that theapostles have already completed the mission to Jews: ‘theconversion of Gentiles is itself a fulfilment of the promises to Israelso that the apostolic mission to Jews turns out indirectly to beGentile mission’ (p. 68).

The most interesting part of Jervell’s book to me is the chapterentitled: ‘The Twelve on Israel’s thrones: Luke’s understanding ofthe apostolate’ (pp. 75–112). Here he argues for a link between theTwelve and Israel which I think is correct. In this context Jervellpresents the church as the restored Israel.

WILSON (1973)

The other side of this picture is provided by Stephen G. Wilson.His book examines the question of The Gentiles and the GentileMission in Luke-Acts (SNTSMS 23; Cambridge: CambridgeUniversity Press, 1973). Wilson shows how Luke justifies theGentile mission by showing that it is ‘rooted in the words of Jesus,as a promise in his earthly ministry and as a command after theResurrection’ (p. 243).

MADDOX (1982)

A book which I have long found useful is Robert Maddox’s ThePurpose of Luke-Acts (Edinburgh: T. & T.Clark, 1982). This book


deals with many issues of Lucan interpretation, includingquestions of Luke’s eschatology and setting, in a helpful andilluminating way. Not the least important part of the book is theway in which it summarizes scholarly literature in its differentchapters on the period before the early 1980s. Maddox’s view ofLucan eschatology is that Luke’s emphasis lies in the reality of thepresent fulfilment of eschatological hopes (p. 145). He thinks thatLuke was written to reassure the Christian community about thesignificance of the tradition of faith in which it stood: ‘Lukeencourages his readers not only to look forward with hope to theconsummation of all things at the End, but also to appreciate that“salvation”, the grace and power of God in action, is a presentreality in which they already stand’ (p. 187).

TALBERT (1982)

C.H. Talbert has written or edited several books on Luke but forour purposes the most significant is his Reading Luke: A Literaryand Theological Commentary on the Third Gospel (1982). It isinteresting that Talbert spends very little time on introductorypreamble. There is, for instance, no initial attempt to explain themechanics of the plot. Talbert is already reading Luke 1 on p. 7!This is not quite a sequential reading. Talbert arranges the Lucanmaterial according to themes. Thus he places together all thematerial that deals with ‘John, prototype of the ChristianEvangelist’. Nor does it read the whole Gospel; I can see nodiscussion of 13.35 listed in the table of contents. Talbert’s readingof Luke works from the belief that it belongs to the genre ofancient biography.

DAWSEY (1986)

Dawsey we have considered already. His book must be read byeverybody who wants to gain a deeper understanding of Luke.Dawsey exposes the tensions in the narrative, especially the way inwhich the narrator adopts a different stance from the impliedauthor.


SANDERS (1987)

I have already mentioned Jack Sanders’ book on The Jews inLuke-Acts. This differs from earlier work on the subject (e.g.Jervell) in that it sees Luke as roundly condemning the Jews fortheir rejection of Jesus. Sanders sees Luke as supplying furtherevidence for the development of an anti-Jewish perspective in theliterature of primitive Christianity.

ESLER (1987)

Esler (Community and Gospel in Luke-Acts) brings socio-scientificmethodology to bear on the Lucan corpus. Esler sees Luke-Acts aswritten for a Christian community in a Hellenistic city of theRoman East, which was experiencing difficulties from within andopposition from without, which threatened its continued existenceand unity. Esler thinks that this predicament originated largely inthe very mixed nature of the individuals who comprised itsmembership. This mixture can be seen both on the axis of theirprior religious affiliation, which ranged from pagan idolatry toconservative Judaism, and on the socio-economic axis, whichextended from the wealth and power of senior Roman figures tothe poverty of the city’s beggar population.

Esler argues that Luke responded to the first of these problemsby re-writing early Christian history to present the phenomenon oftable-fellowship between Jews and Christians as inaugurated byPeter with divine permission. Luke responds to the second byintensifying the preference for the poor which he found in Markand reassuring them of their privileged position in the scheme ofsalvation inaugurated by Jesus. On the political level, Luke’smessage for the Romans in his community is that there is no clashbetween Christianity and Rome. To this extent Luke’s theology ismoulded by the social and political forces that operated upon hiscommunity.

FITZMYER (1989)

An important introduction to the various Lucan themes isFitzmyer’s Luke the Theologian: Aspects of his Teaching (London:Geoffrey Chapman, 1989). This, as its title implies, considers someof the theological motifs that we encounter in the Gospel. Much of


the material is covered in other books, although arguably ratherless well. There is an interesting chapter on ‘Mary in LucanSalvation History’ and another on ‘the Lucan picture of John theBaptist as Precursor of the Lord’. It is unfortunate, perhaps, thatFitzmyer shows no knowledge of Dawsey’s work. But his book iseasy to read and serves as an admirable introduction to Lucantheology. It is not, however, in any sense a ‘literary’ reading ofLuke.

GOULDER (1989)

Michael Goulder is an able and significant figure in British NewTestament scholarship. His Luke—A New Paradigm falls withinthe province of redaction criticism. It follows that those who wanta holistic commentary on Luke will be disappointed by this book.That is not what Goulder sets out to provide. On the other hand,those who are prepared to work through two detailed volumeswill find a journey that is magisterially conducted with aconclusion powerfully argued. One does not have to agree withevery aspect of Goulder’s conclusion to recognize that this is asignificant book. Its section-by-section analysis makes it mucheasier to read than, say, Conzelmann, who also writes from theperspective of redaction-criticism.

NEYREY (1991)

Jerome H. Neyrey has edited a valuable collection of essays in TheSocial World of Luke-Acts: Models for Interpretation (Peabody:Hendrickson, 1991). Study of the social world in which thedifferent documents came to birth is an increasingly importantaspect of New Testament research. Readers of Luke-Acts will findmuch to stimulate them here. Of particular interest are the essaysby Malina and Neyrey on ‘Honor and Shame in Luke-Acts: PivotalValues of the Mediterranean World’ (pp. 25–65); by Rohrbaughon ‘The Preindustrial City in Luke-Acts: Urban Social Relations’(pp. 125–49); and by Robbins on ‘The Social Location of theImplied Author of Luke-Acts’ (pp. 305–32). The nature of thisvolume means that it ought to be required reading for those whowant to gain a contemporary understanding of the Gospel.


FRANKLIN (1994)

The penultimate book to be considered is Eric Franklin’s Luke:Interpreter of Paul, Critic of Matthew (1994). Franklin, likeGoulder, is a senior British New Testament scholar who has spentmuch of his life teaching in a theological college. Franklin arguesthat Luke interprets Matthew (which, obviously, he thereforeknew) but criticizes Paul. The nature and significance of Franklin’sargument merits a little investigarion.

Franklin begins his Pauline section with a study of Acts 15,the report of the so-called Jerusalem Conference. He cites F.F.Bruce’s (rather grudging) admission that Paul may not actuallyhave been at the Conference and poses the problem in thefollowing way: ‘Acts 15 is in every sense pivotal for Luke’s pictureof Paul in Acts. If he has got Paul to a meeting at which he was notpresent and doing something which he is wholly unlikely to havedone—let alone going around and imposing that something onothers—there seems little ground for defending the historicity ofLuke’s picture of Paul. In some way, the Paul of Acts is not thereal Paul’ (pp. 43–4).

This leads Franklin to conclude (chapter 3) that Luke has a clearunderstanding of Paul’s position on the Law. This is that the Lawno longer has a part in defining the boundaries of the people ofGod. The historical Paul did not accept the apostolic decree; thePaul of Acts by contrast does.

Luke makes Paul preach to Israel (chapter 4) for he (Luke) has acontinuing concern with the Jewish people. The final section ofActs shows that Luke has not written the Jews off. ‘There isnothing to suggest that Rome marks the end, either of God’sconcern, or of his mercy towards the Jews’ (p. 103).

Franklin explains the prominence of Paul in Acts in thefollowing way: ‘Paul, then, is not climactic for Acts, let alone forLuke-Acts as a whole. He is rather supremely illustrative of thepurpose of Luke-Acts. He is drawn into Luke’s overall purposewhich is to express his understanding of the significance of Jesusand of the events which have come about as a result of him…Luke’s primary purpose was nothing less than a presentation of thetruths of the gospel as he understood it’ (p. 135).

Our interest here lies rather more with Franklin’s evaluation ofMatthew which he presents in the second half of the book.Franklin begins from the premise that both Gospels were addressed


to mixed communities where what was a strong Jewish outlookwas developing into a situation where the church was becomingpredominantly Gentile in its concerns (p. 165). Luke is not hostileto his predecessors but he is critical of them in certain respects (pp.171–2). The first area is in his treatment of the Pharisees. Luke ismuch less negative to them than Matthew or Mark (chapter 8).‘Luke sees the Pharisees, not as representatives of anycontemporary group—though there was no doubt Pharisaicactivity in his time— but as figures primarily from the past, asrepresentatives of that group who by their piety, their zeal, theircovenantal seriousness, and their response to Israel’s electionshould have been those who would have been expected to respondto Jesus to see the Law and prophecy taken up and fulfilled in him.The tragedy is that they had not, that though they had a naturalaffinity with Jesus and with the proclamation about him, they hadbeen unable to take on board the newness within the continuitythat the coming of Jesus meant’ (pp. 196–7). Luke chapter 11differs from the Matthaean parallel (Matthew 23.1) because it isaddressed directly to the Pharisees and not to the crowds anddisciples about the Pharisees.

Allied to this is Luke’s treatment of the Law (chapter 9). Lukesees Christianity as the fulfilment of Judaism in such a way as tomake him detect an over-riding continuity between the tworeligions. Nevertheless, Luke is aware that the Mosaic regulationshave been waived for Gentile converts to Christianity. This leadshim to reshape much of the old as it is caught up in the new. Thatis evident especially in 16.16–17. 16.16 expresses the discontinuitybetween Judaism and Christianity. 16.17, however, putsconstraints on the freedom offered by the new religion: ‘The oldmust not be dismissed as outmoded. It must be caught up in thenew and that means that the Law is not to be set aside, to bedismissed as of no consequence, as bringing nothing into the newage. Freedom from its rules must not be interpreted as licence toreject its outlook, it points to the means of love of God andneighbour’ (p. 205). ‘There is in Luke…something of a lightness oftouch towards the Law as this is compared with Matthew on theone hand and with Paul and Mark on the other’ (p. 211).

Luke has ‘a less clearly defined division between Jesus and thepeople of Israel as a whole than does Matthew’ (p. 212). Thegenealogy shows that ‘his sonship has implications not only for allIsrael but for all mankind…. Jesus is seen to be restoring the


potentiality that is in Israel and in mankind as a whole’ (p. 215).‘Luke’s understanding of the attitude of God to Israel in the light ofthe coming of Jesus is set out in his account of the rejection atNazareth which for him is, as is usually acknowledged, givenprogrammatic significance (4.16–30)’ (p. 225). Franklin criticizes(Jack) Sanders’ interpretation of Luke 4 that it was written ‘toshow how God’s will was carried out in the Jewish rejection ofsalvation and the consequent Gentile mission’ (p. 226; citingSanders, p. 168). Franklin himself offers a more moderateconclusion: ‘Jesus is rejected by his people; they set out to destroyhim; he however turns upon them to stop their intention frombeing realized and so to pass through them to go on his way’ (p.228). This means that ‘Luke’s telling of the story does not find itssignificance in Jesus’ rejection of the Jews but in their rejection ofhim’ (p. 229). The Nazareth episode indicates that ‘Jewishrejection does not mean that all is brought to nothing’ (p. 229). Itis rather ‘an attempt to understand and to counter the problemsraised by the Jewish rejection of him’ (p. 231).

Franklin next turns his attention to the problem of Lucaneschatology: ‘the fact of Acts…does not mean that Luke hasnecessarily abandoned belief in an early parousia…. His story ofthe past means that the hope grounded on that past could as wellhave been a hope in an early parousia as in the continuation of theworld and of history’ (p. 259). ‘The parousia…retains its place inLuke’s expectations, and belief in its nearness continues to exercisea controlling influence over his understanding of the nature of thework of God in Christ and of the nature of Christian hope’ (p. 263).

The final part of Franklin’s book presents a survey of Luke’s useof Matthew. He concludes that Luke did know Matthew and thathis divergences from Matthew are in consequence significant. Headds, however, that ‘Luke basically approved of neither the wayMatthew resolved the historical difficulties encountered by hischurch nor the basic theological outlook which resulted from sucha resolution’ (p. 310). Franklin continues: ‘While he regardedMark’s Gospel as a witness which merited great respect but whichthe passing of time made inadequate as a basis for commendingcontinuing belief in Jesus in the light of new circumstances andchanged problems, he found Matthew’s attempt to meet the needposed by those very circumstances and problems inadequate, if notdownright wrongheaded, in its resulting attitude to the Law, to theJews, and in its eschatological interpretation of the present times.


If Mark was inadequate and needed updating, Luke recognizedMatthew as such an updating of Mark but one which in fact wasmisguided’ (p. 311).

Franklin finds the basis of this unease in Luke’s presentation ofeschatology: ‘Luke sees eschatology as being less realized in thepresent than does Matthew and he therefore accepts the parousiaas having a positive role. It retains the aspect of hope in a way thatMatthew’s emphasis upon its judgmental role does not’ (p. 312).Luke also disliked Matthew because it ‘represented a traditionwhich had diverged forcefully from that expressed by his heroPaul’ (p. 314).

Franklin explores these differences in the rest of his book.Chapter 14 examines the question of the discourses of Jesus in thetwo Gospels, including of course the Lucan Sermon on the Plain(chapter 6). ‘Luke’s form of the sermon is best understood as aconscious reaction against that found in Matthew. It omits whatits own understanding deems unacceptable’ (p. 322). Chapter 15studies the central section of Luke. Franklin cites the research ofEvans and Moessner concerning the projected Deuteronomisticinfluence on Luke but concludes: ‘In spite of the closeDeuteronomistic connection, this is not enough to suggest thatDeuteronomy of itself exerted the final control over the order ofLuke’s central section. Material in that section is linked to aDeuteronomic parallel but it is not wholly controlled by it. Thecloseness of parallelism does not extend throughout the narrative’(p. 336). He proceeds through the narrative and shows how andwhere the Matthaean viewpoint is corrected. Chapter 16 does thesame for the Infancy and Resurrection narratives. Franklinconcludes that ‘Luke…is much clearer about the virginalconception than is Matthew’ (p. 359).

Chapters 17 and 18 summarize the results of the study. ‘Boththe shape and the contents of Luke’s Gospel are best explained onthe supposition that Luke knew Matthew’s Gospel as well asMark’s and that, while the latter was his primary source, he usedMatthew as a second source with which to expand and updateMark’ (p. 367). He assumes in this that a large question must beraised against the existence of Q (p. 369). Luke is consistently lesshostile to the Jewish people than is Matthew; he is also somewhatless confident about the present (p. 371). His understanding of thesignificance of Jesus’ life is very different, but his church situation


is actually quite similar (pp. 371–2). So, too, Luke emphasizes theascension in a way which Matthew does not (p. 375).

I warmly commend Franklin’s book. Its style may be a littleponderous, but Franklin has devoted his entire career to study ofthe Lucan literature. Franklin is one of the major scholars withwhom Lucan interpreters must reckon.

MOORE (1989, 1992, 1994)

Finally, Stephen Moore. I have mentioned Moore’s workthroughout this book and acknowledged what I have learned fromit. I shall briefly explain what Moore’s books contain and presentmy response to them.

Literary Criticism (1989) ought to be standard reading foreverybody who is interested in this aspect of Gospel research.Moore has read widely in the field and presents his insights with witand imagination. I particularly appreciated his introduction tonarrative criticism (part I) which will help all readers of theGospels to see the underlying philosophy of this approach and thepresuppositions which it deconstructs. Part II is a series of readingsof biblical literature which includes such topics as ‘Do critics makeor do they find?’, and (most intriguingly) The failure of Johannineirony’. Here again is invaluable material for readers to ponder.

Moore’s third book, Poststructuralism (1994), is again animportant text. It offers an introduction to Derrida and Foucaultand includes perceptive material on deconstruction and its value forGospel scholarship. Moore takes on an earlier generation ofliterary critics, such as Culpepper, in his denial (p. 74) that theFourth Gospel is an homogeneous and ordered text. Moore alsointroduces Foucault and his concern to show how discourses ofknowledge produce the effects which they describe (pp. 83–117).

Moore’s second book, Mark and Luke (1992), caused me thegreatest problems of the three. Perhaps this is because I am myselfa newcomer to poststructuralism. I wonder, however, whetherMoore’s undoubted wit and flair with words militates to someextent against the impact of his book. Consider the followingsentence from the chapter entitled ‘Look-Ax: Luke’s CuttingGlance’: ‘But even if Look is God in his wor(l)d, Third Person ofthe Blessed Trinity—Author, Jesus, narrator—he neverthelessworks a nine-to-five job. Thanks to the device of omnipresence,the Lucan Author can assume a secret identity in his written wor(l)


d, can be transformed from a mere earwitness (“I have heard fromsome who were told by others who were there”—see Luke 1:2)into an eyewitness, can present the Good News as the Six O’ClockNews. And the reader is made an eye-and-ear witness byextension, thanks to the roving camcorder and floating mike Lukehas become’ (p. 136). My problem with this is that, whatever onemakes of the content, one is forever tripping over the words andimages in a way that initially obscures, rather than advances, theflow of thought. Having said this, the book has many of the meritsof Moore’s two other volumes and many may find the styleattractive. One wants to guard against the impression, however, ofmerely playing with words. This may prejudice some readersagainst a particular work of scholarship.

WHICH COMMENTARY SHOULD I USE?

And so to the question of commentaries. One of my personalfavourites is that by Caird (1968) which is now unfortunately outof print. It is clear and concise but not a verse-by-verse expositionof the text. It has now been replaced by Evans (1990) which islonger than Caird’s but follows the same format.

Among other commentaries students must choose between thoseby Roman Catholic and Evangelical writers. In the former categoryis the two-volume commentary by Joseph Fitzmyer (1981, 1985).This should be regarded as standard reading by anyone who isseriously interested in Luke. Marshall’s commentary (1978) was fora long time also regarded as standard reading but it has nowperhaps been replaced by the three volumes written by Nolland inthe Word series (1989–93). Both contain invaluable bibliographicalinformation. Nolland’s exegesis (like Marshall’s) is never less thanworthy. Students should, as a matter of course, ensure that theyuse more than one commentary and more than one book aboutLuke. Fitzmyer and Nolland would make a good balance but all theliterature mentioned in this chapter can appropriately be consultedtoo.


Notes

1AN INTRODUCTION TO THE TEXT

1 I want to acknowledge at the outset how much I have learned fromStephen D.Moore, particularly from his two books, LiteraryCriticism and the Gospels: The Theoretical Challenge (New Havenand London: Yale University Press, 1989) and Poststructuralismand the New Testament: Derrida and Foucault at the Foot of theCross (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1994).

2 For an introduction see Mark A.Powell, What is Narrative Criticism?(Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1990). I review this book below.

3 For earlier treatments see O.C.Edwards, Luke’s Story of Jesus(Philadelphia: Fortress Press, reprinted 1989); W.S.Kurz, ReadingLuke-Acts: Dynamics of Biblical Narrative (Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993); and C.H.Talbert, Reading Luke: ALiterary and Theological Commentary on the Third Gospel (NewYork: Crossroad, 1982).

4 This point is recognized by James M.Dawsey in his book, TheLukan Voice: Confusion and Irony in the Gospel of Luke (Macon:Mercer University Press, 1986). I provide the details of Dawsey’sargument in Chapter 2.

5 On the relations between the two see H.Koester ‘Apocryphal andCanonical Gospels’, HTR 73 (1980), pp. 105–30. Valuable too isKoester’s book Ancient Christian Gospels: Their History andDevelopment (London: SCM Press and Philadelphia: Trinity PressInternational, 1990).

6 We know this from the second-century apocalypse called TheAscension of Isaiah which uses the oral tradition and at least someof the Gospels. On this text see J.M.Knight, The Ascension of Isaiah(GAP 2; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995).

7 Mark 16.8b–20 almost certainly represents a later addition to theGospel.

8 Richard Burridge, What are the Gospels? A Comparison withGraecoRoman Biography (SNTSMS 70; Cambridge: CambridgeUniversity Press, 1992), pp. 128–53.

9 G.N.Stanton, The Gospels and Jesus (Oxford: Oxford UniversityPress, 1989), p. 19. See also D.L.Barr and J.L. Wentling, ‘TheConventions of Classical Biography and the Genre of Luke-Acts’, inC.H.Talbert (ed.), Luke-Acts: New Perspectives from the Society ofBiblical Literature Seminar (New York: Crossroad, 1984), pp. 63–88.

10 On this point see E.P.Sanders and M.Davies, Studying the SynopticGospels (London: SCM Press, 1989) p. 287.

11 C.H.Talbert, What is a Gospel? The Genre of the CanonicalGospels? (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1977), p. 134.

12 This temptation is ably circumvented by Sanders and Davies,Studying the Synoptic Gospels, pp. 252–98.

13 Ibid., pp. 276–8.14 Ibid., p. 278.15 See L.C.A.Alexander, The Preface to Luke’s Gospel: Literary

Convention and Social Context in Luke 1.1–4 and Acts 1.1(SNTSMS 78; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993).

16 Talbert, What is a Gospel?, Chapter 4.17 E.g. by H.J.Cadbury, The Style and Literary Method of Luke (HTS

6; Cambridge Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1920), pp. 39–72.18 This explanation of the omission was proposed by J.Jeremias in his

The Eucharistic Words of Jesus (ET London: SCM Press, 1966), pp.138–59.

19 G.M.Styler, The Priority of Mark’, in C.F.D.Moule, The Birth ofthe New Testament (London: A & C Black, third edition, 1981),Excursus IV, pp. 285–316.

20 Ibid., p. 305.21 See C.M.Tuckett, Q and the History of Early Christianity: Studies

on Q (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1996).22 Sanders and Davies, Studying the Synoptic Gospels, pp. 67–83.23 ‘St. Mark’s Knowledge and Use of Q’ in W.Sanday (ed.), Oxford

Studies in the Synoptic Problem (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1911),pp. 165–83.

24 Sanders and Davies, Studying the Synoptic Gospels, pp. 84–92.25 Ibid., pp. 93–7.26 Ibid., p. 92.27 Eric Franklin, Luke: Interpreter of Paul, Critic of Matthew (JSNTSS

92; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994).28 Ibid., p. 164.

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29 Ibid., chapter 17.30 Ibid., p. 373. He criticizes M.D.Goulder’s Luke: A New Paradigm,

two vols. (JSNTSS 20; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1989).For a more detailed review of Goulder see M.S.Goodacre, Goulderand the Gospels: An Examination of a New Paradigm (JSNTSS 133;Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996).

2LUKE AS A NARRATIVE

1 See W.A.Maier, Form Criticism Reexamined (St Louis: Concordia,1973); K.Berger, Einführung in die Formgeschichte (Tübingen:Francke, 1987) and Formgeschichte des Neuen Testaments(Heidelberg: Quelle and Maier, 1984).

2 Rudolph Bultmann, The History of the Synoptic Tradition (1921;ET Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1972).

3 Martin Dibelius, From Tradition to Gospel (1919; ET London:Nicholson & Watson, 1934).

4 See N.Perrin, What is Redaction Criticism? (London: SPCK, 1970).5 H.Conzelmann, The Theology of Luke (ET London: Faber and

Faber, 1960) and Willi Marxsen, Mark the Evangelist: Studies onthe Redaction History of the Gospel (ET Nashville and New York:Abingdon, 1969).

6 See the review of this method by Stephen D.Moore in his LiteraryCriticism and the Gospels: The Theoretical Challenge (New Havenand London: Yale University Press, 1989), pp. 3–7.

7 Ibid., p. 9.8 R.A.Culpepper, Anatomy of the Fourth Gospel: A Study in Literary

Design (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983).9 Ibid., p. 4.

10 Mark A.Powell, What is Narrative Criticism? (Minneapolis:Fortress Press, 1990).

11 Ibid., p. 19.12 Ibid., p. 35.13 Moore, Literary Criticism, p. 172.14 The phrase is noted by Moore, Literary Criticism, p. 175.15 With due acknowledgement to Stephen Moore.16 F.K.Stanzel, A Theory of Narrative (ET Cambridge: Cambridge

University Press, 1984) p. 4.17 M.Bal, Narratology: Introduction to the Theory of Narrative (ET

Toronto: Toronto University Press, 1985) p. 5.18 Wayne Booth, The Rhetoric of Fiction (Harmondsworth: Penguin

Books, second edition, 1991), p. 72.

NOTES 205

19 William Kurz, Reading Luke-Acts: Dynamics of Biblical Narrative(Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993), pp. 10–12.

20 Ibid., p. 11.21 J.M.Dawsey, The Lukan Voice: Confusion and Irony in the Gospel

of Luke (Macon: Mercer University Press, 1986), pp. 110–24.22 Ibid., pp. 1–14.23 Ibid., p. 12.24 Eduard Norden, Die Antike Kunstprosa vom 6en Jahrhundert vor

Christus his in die Zeit der Renaissance (Stuttgart: B.G.Teubner,1958), vol. ii, p. 483; reported by Dawsey, Lukan Voice, p. 19.

25 Dawsey, Lukan Voice, p. 21.26 Ibid, pp. 25–627 Moore, Literary Criticism, p. 33.28 Dawsey, Lukan Voice, pp. 43–71.29 Ibid., pp. 115–17.30 Ibid., p. 41.31 Ibid., p. 4932 Ibid., p. 88. 33 See e.g. W.Iser, The Act of Reading: A Theory of Aesthetic

Response (ET London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1978); and cf.J.L.Staley, The Print’s First Kiss: A Rhetorical Investigation of theImplied Reader in the Fourth Gospel (SBLDS 82; Atlanta: Scholar’sPress, 1988).

34 Kurz, Reading Luke-Acts, pp. 12–16; citing Fitzmyer’scommentary.

35 Dawsey, Lukan Voice, pp. 139–42.36 Ibid., p. 149.37 Ibid., p. 155.38 The evidence is examined in a stimulating way by E.P. Sanders, Jesus

and Judaism (London: SCM Press, 1985), pp. 61–90.39 Ibid., pp. 98–106.40 J.Klausner, The Messianic Idea in Israel (London: George Allen &

Unwin, 1956), p. 941 See the summary of scholarship in Sanders, Jesus, pp. 61–76, but

also the reply by Craig A.Evans, ‘Jesus’ Action in the Temple:Cleansing or Portent of Destruction?, CBQ51 (1989), pp. 237–70.

42 E. Lohmeyer, Lord of the Temple: A Study of the Relation BetweenCult and Gospel (ET Oliver & Boyd, 1961), pp. 44–5.

43 On this point see M.Hengel, The Johannine Question (London:SCM Press, 1989), pp. 68–72.

44 C.F.Evans, ‘The Central Section of St. Luke’s Gospel’ in D.E.Nineham (ed.), Studies in the Gospels: Essays in Memory of R.H.Lightfoot (Oxford:Basil Blackwell, 1955), pp. 37–53. For arefinement of this theory, see D.P.Moessner, Lord of the Banquet:

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The Literary and Theological Significance of the Lukan TravelNarrative (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1989).

3A READING OF LUKE

1 See J.M.Dawsey, The Lukan Voice: Confusion and Irony in theGospel of Luke (Macon: Mercer University Press, 1986), p. 137.

2 Ibid., p. 132.3 Ibid., pp. 62–70.4 See Dawsey’s discussion of it in his Lukan Voice, pp. 85–6. He cites

the work of J.A. T.Robinson, ‘Elijah, John and Jesus: An Essay inDetection’, NTS 4 (1957–8), pp. 263–81.

5 J.A.Fitzmyer, The Gospel According to Luke, vol. 1 (AB 28; GardenCity: Doubleday, 1981), p. 681.

6 See J.Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus (ET London: SCM Press, 1963),p. 131: ‘the parable was addressed to men who were like the olderbrother, men who were offended at the gospel’.

7 E P.Sanders, Jesus and Judaism (London: SCM Press, 1985), p. 309,cites Albert Schweitzer’s belief that Judas betrayed the secret thatthe followers of Jesus thought of him as a king.

8 See J.Blinzler, The Trial of Jesus (ET Cork: Mercier Press, 1959), pp.194–204.

4ALTERNATIVE READINGS OF LUKE

1 D.J.A.Clines, ‘Ethics as Deconstruction, and, the Ethics ofDeconstruction’, in J.W. Rogerson, M.Davies and M.D.Carroll(eds), The Bible in Ethics: The Second Sheffield Colloquium(JSOTSS 207; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), p.104.

2 Ibid., p.104.3 For earlier treatments of this issue see W.Schrage, The Ethics of the

New Testament (ET Edinburgh: T. & T.Clark, 1988), pp. 158–9; L.Schottroff, Let the Oppressed go Free: Feminist Perspectives on theNew Testament (ET Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press1993), esp. pp. 138–67 and T.K.Seim, The Double Message:Patterns of Gender in Luke-Acts (Edinburgh: T. & T.Clark, 1994).

4 For a reading of this material see J.C.Exum, ‘The (M)other’s Place’,in her Fragmented Women: Feminist (Sub)versions of BiblicalNarratives (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1993), pp. 94–147.

NOTES 207

THE THEMES OF LUKE’S GOSPEL

1 For this approach to Luke see J.B.Green, The Theology of theGospel of Luke (NTT; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1995).

2 Stephen Moore, Mark and Luke in Poststructuralist Perspectives:Jesus begins to Write (New Haven and London: Yale UniversityPress, 1992), p. 111.

3 In his book, Hans Conzelmann, The Theology of St Luke (ETLondon: Faber and Faber, 1960) pp. 95–136.

4 Robert Jewett, The Thessalonian Correspondence: Pauline Rhetoricand Millenarian Piety (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986), pp. 161–78.

5 I say ‘probably’ because the scroll in question is unfortunatelydamaged.

6 Richard A.Horsley, Sociology and the Jesus Movement (New York:Continuum, second edition, 1994). By the same author see also Jesusand the Spiral of Violence: Popular Jewish Resistance in RomanPalestine (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987); and (with JohnS.Hanson), Bandits, Prophets, and Messiahs: Popular Movements inthe Time of Jesus (Minneapolis, Chicago, New York: Winston Press:1985).

7 Horsley, Sociology, p. 85.8 Ibid., p. 86.9 Ibid., p. 88.

10 Ibid., p. 94.11 R.A.Horsley, Galilee: History, Politics, People (Valley Forge:

Trinity Press International, 1995), pp. 189–221.12 See B.J.Capper, ‘Community of Goods in the Early Jerusalem

Church’, in W.Haase (ed.) Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischenWelt, 11.26.2 (Berlin and New York: de Gruyter, 1995), pp. 1,730–74. For the description of this evidence in the Lucan literature seeP.F.Esler, Community and Gospel in Luke-Acts: The Social andPolitical Motivation of Lucan Theology (SNTSMS 57; Cambridge:Cambridge University Press, 1987).

13 Horsley, Sociology, p. 122.14 See e.g. J.T.Sanders, The Jews in Luke-Acts (London: SCM Press,

1987), p. 303.15 For a different understanding see Robert L.Brawley, Luke-Acts and

the Jews (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987).16 Conzelmann, Theology, p. 132.17 Wayne Meeks, The First Urban Christians: The Social World of the

Apostle Paul (New Haven and London: Yale University Press,1983), p. 30. Meeks is a penetrating commentator on primitive

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5

Christian social ethics. See also his The Moral World of the FirstChristians (Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1996) and The Originsof Christian Morality: the First Two Centuries (New Haven andLondon: Yale University Press, 1993).

6A READING OF READINGS

1 See for instance C.M.Tuckett (ed.), Luke’s Literary Achievement:Collected Essays (Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995).

NOTES 209

Bibliography

Alexander, L.C.A., The Preface to Luke’s Gospel: Literary Conventionand Social Context in Luke 1.1–4 and Acts 1.1 (SNTSMS 78;Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993).

Attridge, H., The Epistle to the Hebrews (Hermeneia, Philadelphia:Fortress Press, 1989).

Bal, M., Narratology: Introduction to the Theory of Narrative (ETToronto: Toronto University Press, 1985).

Bammel, E., τωxóς, in G.Friedrich (ed.), Theological Dictionary of theNew Testament (ET Grand Rapids: Eerdmans 1968), vol. vi, pp. 888–915.

Barr, D.L. and Wentling, J.L., ‘The Conventions of Classical Biographyand the Genre of Luke-Acts’, in C.H.Talbert (ed.), Luke-Acts: NewPerspectives from the Society of Biblical Literature Seminar (NewYork: Crossroad, 1984), pp. 63–88.

Barrett, C.K., Luke the Historian in Recent Study (London: EpworthPress, 1961).

Berger, K., Formgeschichte des Neuen Testaments (Heidelberg: Quelle andMaier, 1984).

——Einführung in die Formgeschichte (Tübingen: Francke, 1987).Blinzler, J., The Trial of Jesus (ET Cork: Mercier Press, 1959).Booth W.A., The Rhetoric of Fiction (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books,

second edition, 1991).Borgen, P., ‘God’s Agent in the Fourth Gospel’, in J.Neusner (ed.),

Religions in Antiquity: Essays in Memory of Erwin RamsdellGoodenough (SHR 14; Leiden: E.J.Brill, 1968), pp. 137–48.

Brawley, R.L., Luke-Acts and the Jews: Conflict, Apology andConciliation (SBLMS 33; Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1987).

Bultmann, R., The History of the Synoptic Tradition (1921; ET Oxford:Basil Blackwell, revised edition, 1972).

Burridge, R., What are the Gospels? A Comparison with Graeco-RomanBiography (SNTSMS 70; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,1992).

Cadbury, H.J., The Style and Literary Method of Luke (HTS 6; CambridgeMass.: Harvard University Press, 1920).

Caird, G.B., The Gospel of St. Luke (Pelican Gospel Commentaries:London: SCM Press, reprinted 1968).

Capper, B.J., ‘Community of Goods in the Early Jerusalem Church’, in W.Haase (ed.) Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt, Volume II.26.2 (Berlin and New York: de Gruyter, 1995), pp. 1,730–74.

Clines, D.J.A., ‘Ethics as Deconstruction, and, the Ethics ofDeconstruction’, in J.W.Rogerson, M.Davies and M.D.Carroll (eds),The Bible in Ethics: The Second Sheffield Colloquium (JSOTSS 207;Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1995), pp. 77–106.

Collins, A.Y., Crisis and Catharsis: The Power of the Apocalypse(Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1984).

Conzelmann, H., The Theology of St Luke (ET London: Faber and Faber,1960).

Culpepper, R.A., Anatomy of the Fourth Gospel: A Study in LiteraryDesign (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1983).

Dawsey, J.M., The Lukan Voice: Confusion and Irony in the Gospel ofLuke (Macon: Mercer University Press, 1986).

Dibelius, M., From Tradition to Gospel (1919; ET London: Nicholson &Watson, 1934).

Drury, J., Tradition and Design in Luke’s Gospel: A Study in EarlyChristian Historiography (London: Darton, Longman and Todd,1976).

Dunn, J.D.G., Baptism in the Holy Spirit (SBT second series 15; London:SCM Press, 1970).

Edwards, O.C., Luke’s Story of Jesus (Philadelphia: Fortress Press,reprinted 1989).

Esler, P.F., Community and Gospel in Luke-Acts: The Social and PoliticalMotivations of Lucan Theology (SNTSMS 57; Cambridge:Cambridge University Press, 1987).

Evans, C.A., ‘“Jesus” Action in the Temple: Cleansing or Portent ofDestruction?’, CBQ51 (1989), pp. 237–70.

Evans, C.F, ‘The Central Section of St. Luke’s Gospel’ in D.E. Nineham(ed.), Studies in the Gospels: Essays in Memory of R.H.Lightfoot(Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1955), pp. 37–53.

——Saint Luke (Trinity Press International New TestamentCommentaries; London: SCM Press and Philadelphia: Trinity PressInternational, 1990).

Exum, J.C, ‘The (M)other’s Place’, in her Fragmented Women: Feminist(Sub)versions of Biblical Narratives (JSOTSS 163; Sheffield: SheffieldAcademic Press, 1993), pp. 94–147.

Fitzmyer, J.A., The Gospel According to Luke (Anchor Bible series vols28, 28a; Garden City: Doubleday, 1981 and 1985).

——Luke the Theologian: Aspects of His Teaching (London: GeoffreyChapman, 1989).

Franklin, E., Luke: Interpreter of Paul, Critic of Matthew (JSNTSS 92;Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1994).

BIBLIOGRAPHY 211

García Martínez, E., The Dead Sea Scrolls Translated: The Qumran Textsin English (ET Leiden: E.J.Brill, 1994).

Goodacre, M.S., Goulder and the Gospels: An Examination of a NewParadigm (JSNTSS 133; Sheffield: Sheffield Academic Press, 1996).

Goulder, M.D., Luke: A New Paradigm (JSNTSS 20; two vols; Sheffield:Sheffield Academic Press, 1989).

Green, J.B., The Theology of the Gospel of Luke (NTT; Cambridge:Cambridge University Press, 1995).

Hengel, M., Crucifixion (ET London: SCM Press, 1977).——The Johannine Question (London: SCM Press, 1989).Horsley, R.A., Jesus and the Spiral of Violence: Popular Jewish Resistance

in Roman Palestine (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987).——Sociology and the Jesus Movement (New York: Continuum, second

edition, 1994).——Galilee: History, Politics, People (Valley Forge: Trinity Press

International, 1995).Horsley, R.A. and Hanson, J.S., Bandits, Prophets, and Messiahs Popular

Movements in the Time of Jesus (Minneapolis, Chicago, New York:Winston Press, 1985).

Hull, J.M., Hellenistic Magic and the Synoptic Tradition (SBT secondseries 28; London: SCM Press, 1974).

Hurtado, L.W., One God, One Lord: early Christian devotion andancient Jewish Monotheism (London: SCM Press, 1988).

Iser, W., The Act of Reading: A Theory of Aesthetic Response (ETLondon: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1978).

Jeremias, J., The Parables of Jesus (ET London: SCM Press, revisededition, 1963).

——The Eucharistic Words of Jesus (ET London: SCM Press, 1966).Jervell, J., Luke and the People of God (Minneapolis: Augsburg, 1972).Jewett, R., The Thessalonian Correspondence: Pauline Rhetoric and

Millenarian Piety (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1986).Klausner, J., The Messianic Idea in Israel (London: George Allen &

Unwin, 1956).Knight, J.M., The Ascension of Isaiah (GAP 2; Sheffield: Sheffield

Academic Press, 1995).Koester, H., ‘Apocryphal and Canonical Gospels’, HTR 73 (1980), pp.

105–30.——Ancient Christian Gospels. Their History and Development (London:

SCM Press and Philadelphia: Trinity Press International, 1990).Kurz, W.S., Reading Luke-Acts: Dynamics of Biblical Narrative

(Louisville: Westminster/John Knox Press, 1993).Lohmeyer, E., Lord of the Temple: A Study of the Relation between Cult

and Gospel (1942; ET Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, 1961).Maddox, R., The Purpose of Luke-Acts (Edinburgh: T & T Clark, 1982).

212 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Maier, W.A., Form Criticism Reexamined (St Louis: Concordia, 1973) .Mannheim, K., Ideology and Utopia: an Introduction to the Sociology of

Knowledge (new edition, London: Routledge, 1991).Marshall, I.H., The Gospel of Luke: A Commentary on the Greek Text

(Exeter: Paternoster Press, 1977).——Luke: Historian and Theologian (Exeter: Paternoster Press, 1970).Marxsen, W., Mark the Evangelist: Studies on the Redaction History of

the Gospel (ET Nashville and New York: Abingdon, 1969).Meeks, W.A., The First Urban Christians: The Social World of the

Apostle Paul (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1983).——The Moral World of the First Christians (Philadelphia: Westminster

Press, 1986).——The Origins of Christian Morality: the First Two Centuries (New

Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1993).Moessner, D.P., Lord of the Banquet: The Literary and Theological

Significance of the Lukan Travel Narrative (Minneapolis: FortressPress, 1989).

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——Mark and Luke in Poststructuralist Perspectives: Jesus Begins toWrite (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1992).

——Poststructuralism and the New Testament: Derrida and Foucault atthe Foot of the Cross (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1994).

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Nickelsburg, G.W.E., Jewish Literature between the Bible and theMishnah (Philadelphia: Fortress Press, 1981).

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1990).Robinson, J.A.T., ‘Elijah, John and Jesus: An Essay in Detection’, NTS 4

(1957–8), pp. 263–81.Rowland, C.C, The Open Heaven (London: SPCK, 1982).Sanders, E.P., Jesus and Judaism (London: SCM Press, 1985).Sanders, E.P. and Davies, M., Studying the Synoptic Gospels (London:

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Streeter, B.H., ‘St. Mark’s Knowledge and Use of Q’ in W.Sanday (ed.),Oxford Studies in the Synoptic Problem (Oxford: Clarendon, 1911),pp. 165–83.

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——Reading Luke: A Literary and Theological Commentary on the ThirdGospel (New York: Crossroad, 1982).

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Tuckett, C.M., Luke’s Literary Achievement: Collected Essays (Sheffield:Sheffield Academic Press, 1995).

——(ed.), Q and the History of Early Christianity: Studies on Q(Edinburgh: T. & T.Clark, 1996).

Walaskay, P., ‘And so we came to Rome’; The Political Perspective of StLuke (SNTSMS 49; Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1983).

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Winter, B.W., and Clarke, A.D., The Book of Acts in its Ancient LiterarySetting (Grand Rapids: Eerdmanns, 1993).

214 BIBLIOGRAPHY

Biblical index

1.Hebrew

scriptures

Genesis1.2 803 1073.15 10738.8 134

Exodus8.19 10916.4 8117.1–7 8123.20 15, 95

Numbers14.34 81

Deuteronomy8.3 (LXX) 819.10 10910.18 9418.15 63, 10324.1–4 12224.4 17925.5 13432.20 104

Judges13 73

1 Samuel1–2 7315.10 7816 76

2 Samuel

7.14 782 Kings

1.10 1051.12 105

1 Chronicles28.5 168

Psalms2.7 8047.2 169107.29 99110.1 134, 135118.22 51, 133118.26 118

Isaiah1.3 762.3 628 1338.14–15 51, 13340 7842.1 8046.13 15349.5 4549.6 15356.1–8 4456.6–7 17756.7 4960.1–14 4460.3–7 4460.3 4361 17, 55, 63, 67, 82, 85, 162,175, 183

Jeremiah

215

4.14 1176.8 1177 507.4 497.8–11 497.11 4913.27 11731.31–4 14031.34 87

Ezekiel3.26 7333.22 7534.2 76

Daniel10.15 73

Micah4 44

Habakkuk2.11 130

Zechariah9.9 130

Malachi3.1 15, 954.5 95, 103

2.Deuterocanoni

cal works

Tobit14.5 44

Wisdom7.4 76

Ben Sira48.10 45

3.Pseudepigraph

a

1 Enoch25.3–5 4436–71 75

62 7584.2 16989.73 4790.29 4491.13 44

Jubilees1.15–17 44

Psalms of Solomon11 4517 4517.3 16917.32 44

Testament of Moses10.1 169

4.New

Testament

Matthew1.18–25 541.23 741.25 743.7–12 794.4 815 1805.31–2 1805.32 1228.12 149–9 1639.35 1410.1 1410.7–11 1410.11 1510.14 1410.42 12311.3 8111.12 12212.38–42 11014.3–12 1214.12–13 1219.28 55, 141, 17421.4–5 13023 111

216 BIBLICAL INDEX

23.1 19727.15–18 1227.17 1227.18 1228.19–20 7928.20 100

Mark1.1 51.2–3 151.9–11 803.6 18, 86, 903.14 1743.21 994.1–6 135–8 1745.37 135.40 136.1–6 836.6b-13 146.7 1746.10 156.17–29 1212.10 17413.14 18614.51–2 16314.58 17415.6–10 1215.6 66, 14516 1216.8 516.8b-20 11, 20216.15 147

Luke1–2 11, 16, 291 75, 1571.1–2 541.1–17 801.1–4 7, 311.1 8, 40, 1781.2 41, 163, 2011.4 30, 401.5 7, 157, 1581.7 1571.8–20 73

1.13–17 731.13 1571.16 731.17 731.18–20 73 1.21–2 73 1.24–5157 1.24 73, 74 1.26–38 73 1.27 73 1.31–3 74 1.32–3 75, 761.32 381.34–8 741.34–5 621.35 741.39–45 741.41 751.43 32, 75, 1571.46–55 751.48–9 1571.48 751.49 751.50–5 751.51–3 75, 1711.52 1751.54–5 751.54 651.56–7 751.57–66 771.57–80 751.63 751.66 73, 751.68–79 751.68 751.69 761.77 73, 761.78 65, 731.79 77, 115, 1312 762.1 762.4–6 762.7 762.8–20 762.11 43, 56, 73, 76, 77, 80,1302.12 762.14 77, 115, 130, 1312.15–20 77

BIBLICAL INDEX 217

2.15 1622.17 1622.18 772.21 772.22–3 772.22–4 432.25 43, 77, 1522.26–7 1522.26 33, 35, 772.27 772.28 892.29–32 162.30–31 772.30 16, 432.31 652.32 44, 49, 77, 152, 1762.34–5 772.35 512.36–8 782.36 1582.37 1522.38 43, 78, 86, 135, 1382.39–40 432.41–52 43, 782.46–7 442.49 44, 783 16, 783.1 7, 11, 28, 61, 783.2 783.3 78, 873.4–6 783.4 313.6 1623.7–14 793.7 793.8–9 793.9 1293.10–13 793.11 913.15–17 163.15 793.16–17 793.16 793.17 79, 91

3.18–20 793.19–20 843.20 963.21–2 803.21 803.22 81, 833.23–28 803.28 813.31 803.34 803.38 814 4, 17, 63, 65, 75, 80, 81, 82,83, 84, 85, 93, 94, 95, 100,1984.1–13 174.1 814.2 814.3–4 814.5–8 824.6 864.8 824.9–11 45, 674.10–11 824.12 824.13 19, 344.14–30 17, 824.16–30 13, 1984.18–19 67, 75, 85, 90, 93, 118, 175, 1834.18 55, 874.21–30 964.21 55, 824.22 55, 77, 834.23 83, 85, 1104.24–7 834.24 35, 54, 55, 84, 1424.25–7 84, 934.26–7 684.26 944.28–30 844.28 834.29–30 1004.29 834.30 83

218 BIBLICAL INDEX

4.31–7 854.34 854.36 55, 854.40–1 654.41 55, 854.43 865.1–11 86, 905.8 865.10 865.12–16 875.12 865.14 87, 1245.17–26 60, 87, 975.17 625.19 75.20–1 915.20 1585.21 875.23 875.24 885.26 885.27–8 885.29–39 885.30 885.32 885.33–5 37, 975.33 885.35 885.36–9 886 17, 90, 154, 155, 171, 1916.1–5 46, 896.1 886.3 1346.6–11 46, 896.12–16 906.6 896.7 896.8 896.9 896.10 896.11 906.12 896.13–16 556.19 90

6.20–6 906.20–1 906.20 1726.21 1726.22 906.24–6 916.24–5 916.27–30 916.29 916.31–6 926.35 926.37–49 926.37–8 926.37 936.39 926.41–2 926.43–5 926.46–9 926.46 92, 98, 1166.49 927 73, 93, 1757.1 177.1–10 68, 93, 1007.3 60, 947.4–5 947.5 947.6–10 947.6 947.7–9 947.7 1757.9 84, 94, 1757.10 947.11–17 68, 947.12 947.13 947.14 947.15 947.16 947.18–28 957.19 33, 957.21 957.22–3 957.24–8 957.26 95

BIBLICAL INDEX 219

7.27–8 967.27 15, 33, 59, 63, 95, 101,1037.28 88, 95, 96, 1227.29–30 34, 60, 967.29 967.30 37, 93, 967.31 967.32 967.33 967.34 967.35 977.36–50 97, 112, 1587.37 1587.38 158, 1597.39 97, 142, 1597.40–3 977.40 1597.44 977.47 97, 158, 1597.48 977.50 97, 1248 51, 84, 98, 99, 159, 1628.1–8 988.1 17, 1598.2 1598.3 1598.4–8 1068.8 988.10 98, 105, 1628.11–15 988.12 988.15 110, 1798.16–17 1128.16 99, 1118.17 998.18 998.19–21 90, 998.21 99, 106, 1108.22–5 998.25 998.26 998.27 998.28 99

8.29 998.30 998.32–3 998.34 1008.34–8 848.35 1008.37 1008.40–2a 1008.42–8 1588.42b-48 1008.43 1008.44 1588.48 1588.49–56 1008.51 138.54 7 9 17, 65, 87, 99, 100,108, 128, 1979.1–6 149.1 1009.1–2 1009.2 1009.3 1069.4 14, 159.5 149.7–9 1019.9 73, 1019.10–17 1019.18–27 1019.18–19 609.19 1019.20–2 579.20–1 101, 1659.20 35, 56, 59, 65, 101, 1629.21 17, 65, 74, 86, 101, 102,1049.22 7, 39, 42, 56, 62, 64, 101,102, 117, 1529.23–7 1029.23 36, 67, 102, 1289.26 41, 49, 58, 79, 102, 112,113, 118, 147, 150, 151, 168,173, 1929.27 102, 138, 165, 1679.28–40 49

220 BIBLICAL INDEX

9.28–36 17, 1039.29 1039.35 1049.35 1039.40 1079.41 1049.44–5 599.44 7, 56, 105, 1249.45 1059.47–8 1239.48 105, 1419.49–50 1049.50 1049.51 17, 32, 56, 67, 104, 105,117, 1509.52 105, 1069.53 1059.54 105, 1149.55 1059.57–62 105, 1069.58 1059.60 1069.62 10610–19 17, 5610 18, 100, 16210.1–12 18, 10610.1 3110.4 10610.7 10610.12–15 11010.12 10610.14 10610.16 10710.17 17, 32, 10710.18 18, 35, 59, 82, 10710.19–20 14610.19 10710.20 10710.21–2 10710.23–4 10810.25–37 18, 10810.27 10810.29 10810.33 124

10.38–42 108, 16010.38 16010.39 16010.40 16010.41–2 16010.57–62 10811–12 11711 110, 111, 19711.1–13 10811.2–4 18, 10811.2 108, 109, 12611.3 10911.4 10911.5–10 109, 12511.11–13 10911.13 10911.14–20 10911.15 11011.16 109, 11011.18 10911.19 10911.20 10911.21–2 11011.22 8211.24–6 11011.27–8 11011.27 16011.29–32 33, 11011.30 11011.31 11111.32 110, 11111.33–5 11111.37–54 11111.37–46 11111.37–43 11211.37 11111.38 11111.41 11411.42 11111.43 11111.44 11111.46 11111.47 11111.48 111

BIBLICAL INDEX 221

11.49 11111.50 111, 13711.52 11111.53–4 37, 11112 112, 11512.1–3 11212.2 11212.4–5 11212.6–7 11212.8–10 11212.8–9 11212.9 11312.10 11212.11–12 112, 11312.12 18012.13–34 11312.13–21 11212.13 11212.14 11312.16–21 11312.22–34 11212.22–31 16812.22–6 11312.29–30 11312.31 113, 16812.32–4 11312.35–40 112, 11312.35 11312.36 11412.38 11412.39–40 11412.39 11412.40 112, 11412.42–6 11412.46 11412.47–8 11412.49–53 13612.49–51 11412.49 105, 11412.50 11412.51–3 114, 11512.51 11412.54–6 11512.56 115

12.57–9 11512.59 11513 48, 115, 118, 12013.1–5 15913.1–3 11513.5 11513.6–9 11513.10–17 11613.16 116, 12913.17 42, 11613.18–21 11613.18–19 12313.19 116, 12313.21 16113.22–30 4813.22–4 11613.23–30 3813.25–30 116, 120, 125, 17313.25 154, 19213.26 11613.27 17913.28–9 11613.28 1413.29 11913.30 11613.31–3 11713.31 37, 60, 112, 13513.32–5 11813.32–3 11713.33 49, 54, 62, 67, 84, 15213.34–5 41, 45, 46, 17513.34 33, 44, 48, 49, 117, 118,131, 13713.35 3, 17, 46, 47, 48, 49, 51,53, 63, 118, 130, 131, 156,184, 19114 118, 18214.1–6 11914.3 11914.5 11914.6 11914.7–11 11914.7 18214.11 182, 183

222 BIBLICAL INDEX

14.12–14 11914.13 119, 18314.15–25 18314.15–24 11914.15 8214.18–19 11914.21–2 8414.21 11914.24 11914.26 120, 172, 18214.28 12014.33 12014.34–5 12014.49–53 12015.11–32 18, 17215 12015.1–7 12015.8–10 12015.11–32 12016 12116.1–8 11516.5–7 17016.8 12116.9 121, 123, 15416.10–12 12116.10–13 12116.13 12116.14 7, 12116.16–17 19716.16 122, 140, 178, 19716.17 122, 178, 180, 19816.18 63, 122, 179, 18016.19–31 12216.23 123, 14516.27–8 12316.29–31 12316.31 123, 13417 12317.1–3a 12317.3b-4 123, 17917.5–6 12317.7–10 12317.11–19 12417.16 60

17.19 12417.20–1 124, 129, 161, 168,17317.21 33, 96, 124, 15117.22–37 5717.22–5 12417.23 12417.24 124, 12517.25 35, 12417.26–7 12517.28–9 12517.31–3, 12517.37, 12518 125, 15518.1-8 125 18.4 11518.8 12618.9 12618.9–14 12618.14 126, 18318.15–17 12618.17 12618.18–26 12618.18 12618.23 12618–26 12618.30 126, 17218.31–4 12618.31 42, 12818.32–3 12818.34 12818.35–43 12818.35 1818.37–8 12918.42 12819 46, 49, 114, 128, 19019.1–10 12819.1 1819.8 12919.9 12919.11–27 48, 129, 19019.11 33, 48, 129, 153, 166,179, 19019.12 48, 129, 166, 19019.13 129

BIBLICAL INDEX 223

19.14 12919.15 48, 129, 19019–20 1819–26 13019–28–40 49, 118, 13019.28–30 12619.28 48, 12819.28–34 13019.29–40 1819–29 1819.35 13019.36 11819.39 13019.42–3 13119.44 97, 131 19.43–4 47, 13119.45–7 44, 13219.45–6 18, 42, 45, 47, 82, 89,

131, 133, 15319.45 49, 12819.46 49, 50, 131, 17719.47–8 18, 5019.47 42, 44, 50, 82, 96, 116,131, 13220–1 50, 15620 18, 50, 132, 16020.1–8 18, 13220.2 13220.4 13220.5–6 13220.6 13220.7 13220.8 13220.9–18 5020.9–16 18, 41, 13220.10–12 6420.13 50, 13220.14–16 11220.17–18 51, 13320.17 3, 45, 53, 118, 130, 131,133, 156, 19120.18–19 13320.18 98, 15620.19–26 57, 7820.19 19, 42, 50, 133

20.20 19, 13320.21–6 19, 13320.25 19, 133, 18120.27–38 19, 134, 16020.33 13420.35–43 16020.35–36 16020.36 13420.40 19, 13420.41–4, 38, 74, 128, 13420.43 13520.45–7 13521 19, 37, 47, 51, 57, 95, 125,135, 136, 137, 151, 166, 178,186, 19021.1–4 13521.5 51, 13521.6 47, 51, 131, 136, 156,166, 167, 190, 19121.6–7 19021.7 5121.8–11 13621.8 13621.9–10 13621.9 12421.11 136, 13721.12–19 13621.12 13621.13–15 13621.15 5821.16 99, 13621.17 13621.18 13621.19 13621.20 10, 19, 47, 68, 78, 131,137, 166, 190, 19121.22 13721.24 13721.25–8 16721.25–7 13721.25 137, 19021.26 13721.27–31 4121.27–8 167

224 BIBLICAL INDEX

21.27 19, 69, 135, 136, 137,19021.28–32 13821.28 103, 135, 138, 167, 19121.29–31 13821.30 13821.31 138, 167, 16821.32 138, 16721.33 13821.34–6 13821.34 1921.36 138, 17922 11, 19, 27, 34, 118, 138,139, 147, 17522.1–37 13822.1 1922.2 19, 13922.3–6 19, 13922.3 34, 35, 59, 66, 107, 13922.6 13922.7–13 66, 13922.7 13922.15 13922.16 19, 57, 13922.17–20 3822.17 14022.18 19, 27, 5722.19 81, 14022.19–20 11, 14222.20 64, 87, 104, 118, 140,147, 154, 16822.21–3 14122.21 57, 6622.22 3922.24–7 14122.26–7 3922.27 14122.28–30 141, 17422.29 14122.30 55, 59, 90, 100, 106,117, 141, 165, 175, 17722.31–4 14122.33 3522.35–8 141

22.39–46 34, 54, 57, 6722.39 67, 14222.40–2 14222.40 8222.42 5622.43–4 11, 34, 14222.45–6 14222.46 8222.47–8 14222.49–51 14222.50–1 14222.50 5722.51 5722.52–3 14222.53–65 14222.54–62 57, 59, 16222.61 31, 57, 14222.64 14222.66–71 19, 57, 66, 14222.67 38, 57, 66, 14422.69 6, 56, 57, 66, 69, 75,143, 147, 15022.70 57, 69, 14222.71 6623 57, 60, 14323.1 14323.2 41, 57, 66, 12923.3 57, 14423.4 58, 14423.5 14423.6–12 19, 14423.9 14423.11 14423.13–25 66, 144, 14523.13 19, 34, 59, 11823.15 5823.19 6623.24 67, 14523.25 19, 6723.26 19, 144, 14523.27–31 14523.27 145, 16123.28 6723.29–30 145

BIBLICAL INDEX 225

23.32–48 14523.33 723.34b-38 14523.34 14523.35 6723.38 67, 14523.39–43 14523.39 6723.41 58, 14523.42 14523.43 14523.44–7 14523.44 14523.45 14523.46 14623.47 20, 58, 14623.48 14623.49–56 2023.50–423.55–6 14624 20, 14624.1–9 16124.1 14624.2 14624.3 58, 14624.5 58, 14624.6–7 34, 146, 16124.8–11 14624.8 16124.11 146, 16124.13–35 14624.16 14624.19–21 3824.21 147, 15224.23–4 14724.25–7 147, 15424.26 33, 34, 35, 38, 41, 42,54, 56, 75, 101, 101, 135, 143,147, 15224.27 34, 4224.30 27, 81, 14724.33–5 14724.35 8124.36–49 147

24.41–2 14724.44–9 14724.46 14724.47 14724.49 163, 18024.50–2 4124.50–1 9, 2024.51 163

John2.20 1843.22–3 796 1017.39 18013.20 10717 10718.31 14420.31 4121 11

Acts1.1 8, 91.9–11 91.11 1512.11 62.17ff 1862.22–36 202.33 1482.34 382.36 41, 56, 64, 75, 1292.38 793.22 63, 1034.5–12 1364.8 1365.3 595.17–26 1415.36–7 1365.36 1716 1727 537.48–50 537.50 537.54–60 857.56 56, 68, 103, 135, 1507.58 858 108

226 BIBLICAL INDEX

8.6 1058.14–17 7910.2 9413.46 17613.51 10614.9 17515 19618.6 17619.26 6021.28 16724 13625 13626 13626.18 5927.34 13628.3–6 10728.17 17628.24 151, 17628.30–1 16328.31 153, 167, 176

Romans8.18–25 138, 1659–11 151, 17610.4 89

1 Corinthians7.10–11 12210.11 8111.17–22 11915.45 81

Galatians3.13 1663.28 98, 161, 172, 183

Ephesians2.6 1515.25–6 93

Philippians2.6–11 543.20–1 152, 165

Colossians4.14 9

1 Thessalonians3.13 1654 1514.13–18 165

5.1–12 1382 Thessalonians

1.7 1652 136

2 Timothy4.11 9

1 Timothy6.10 126

Philemon24 9

2 Peter2.3–9 1253.9 151

1 John1.1 163

Jude5–6 125

Revelation1.7 118 20.4 165 21 138 22.20152, 165

BIBLICAL INDEX 227

Ancient authors

Early Jewish sourcesJosephusAntiquities

16.179–82 18417.205 18417.317–21 184

Against ApionApion II 7War

6.283–5 1716.300–1 171

Early Christian sourcesDidache

11.3–6 100Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History

3.4.6 9Qumran Scrolls

CD 5.6–7 471QM 451QM12.7–15 1691QpHab 12.7–912.7–9 484Q1713.11 44

11Qtemple29.8–10 44

228

General index

Abraham 75, 79, 80, 81, 116, 122,123, 129

Acts viii, 5, 7, 8, 9, 10, 17, 20, 31,53, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 68, 69,84, 90, 94, 106, 110, 135, 136,153, 163, 165, 167, 172, 175,176, 177, 178, 180, 192, 197,199

Adam 61, 80, 81Agrippa (Herod) 136Alexander, Loveday C.A. 192, 204allegorical interpretation 26allegory 26Ancient of Days 137angelology 103, 147Anna 43, 77, 152, 153, 158Antioch 9Antiochus Epiphanes 184apocalyptic (literature) 41, 75, 91,

103, 137, 169, 186aporias 23ascension 5, 6, 9, 20, 20, 40, 41,

42, 58, 74, 103, 104, 129, 147,150, 151, 163, 180, 188

Ascension of Isaiah 39Austen 53

Baal 105Babylonian Exile 68, 184Bal, M. 205baptism (of Jesus) 16, 58, 79, 80,

96, 114

Barabbas 12, 66, 67, 144Barnabas 176Barr, D.L, 204Barrett. C.K. 192Basileides 54Beatitudes 90, 91, 92, 153, 154,

155, 171, 191Beelzebul 58, 109, 110Benedictus 75, 76Berger, K. 204Bethlehem 76binary opposition(s) 134, 148, 150,

153, 154, 155, 160, 174biography 5, 6Black, Matthew 32blasphemy 87, 112, 113Blinzler, J. 206Booth, Wayne 29, 205Brawley, R.L. 208Bruce, F.F. 196Bultmann, Rudolph 22, 26, 205Burridge, Richard 5, 202

Cadbury, H.J. 204Caesar 133, 134, 143, 181Caird, G.B. 201canon (scriptural) 20Capernaum 17, 83Capper, B.J. 207Caputo 26Carroll, M.D. 207

229

characterization 23, 53–4, 57, 58,60, 162

chief priests (see priests) 18, 19, 34,42, 50, 56, 60, 96, 131, 133,139, 144, 152

Christ (Jesus as) 33, 34, 35, 38, 41,42, 56, 65, 67, 71, 75, 89, 183,

188Christian community (ies) 6, 10,

11, 30, 38, 39, 108, 119, 172,175, 180, 181, 194

christology 54circumcision 77Clarke, A.D. 193cleansing of the temple 18, 42, 47,

49, 131Clines, David J.A. 148, 150, 207Codex Bezae 140composition criticism 3, 23Conzelmann, Hans viii, 22, 163,

165, 167, 168, 177, 179, 185,186, 188, 189, 190, 191, 192,196, 205, 207, 208

Cornelius 94covenant 104, 118, 140, 147, 154,

167, 168, 175, 177crucifixion 35, 58, 67, 144, 145,

161Culpepper, Alan 23, 24, 25, 200,

205

Daniel 184David 38, 46, 73, 75, 89, 134, 184Davies, M. 13, 14, 204, 207Dawsey, J.M. 31, 32, 33, 35, 39,

82, 83, 183, 194, 195, 202, 205,206

day of the Lord 95, 96death (of Jesus) 4, 5, 18, 28, 33,

40, 42, 49, 52, 54, 55, 56, 61,62, 64, 65, 82, 84, 104, 114,118, 128, 131, 132, 133, 139,140, 145, 146, 152, 154, 169,175

deconstruction 27, 148, 150, 154,155, 156

deconstructive reading viii, 150Delos 182demon(s) 17, 18, 45, 54, 58, 65,

82, 85, 99, 100, 104, 107, 109,110, 117

demythologizing 26Derrida, J. 27, 148, 200Deutero-Isaiah 64Deuteronomy 63, 68, 200devil (see Satan) 45, 65, 67, 81, 82,

85, 86, 98Dibelius, Martin 22, 205Dickens, Charles 53Didache 39, 106Diogenes Laertius 8disciples 32, 39, 46, 59, 65, 66, 82,

86, 88, 90, 98, 99, 100, 101,104, 105, 107, 108, 113, 120,126, 128, 130, 136, 139, 141,142, 146, 147, 148, 152, 154,159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 168,198

Dives 122, 181Docetism 54Domitian 165, 191

Edwards, O.C. 202Egypt 139Eleven, the 146Elijah 33, 38, 45, 55, 59, 63, 68,

71, 73, 83, 93, 94, 95, 96, 101,103, 105

Elisha 68, 83, 93, 94Elizabeth 32, 60, 73, 74, 75, 157Emmaus 27, 34, 38, 146, 152, 154Epaphroditus 7Ephesus 167epistemology 163eschatological age 44, 46, 47, 48,

50, 55, 88, 104, 110, 140, 141,167, 178

230 GENERAL INDEX

eschatological discourse 19, 37,135, 137, 190

eschatological teaching 19, 113,125, 135

eschatological temple 3, 51, 52, 53,118, 132, 133, 156

eschatology 31, 37, 40, 53, 62, 85,88, 95, 103, 113, 118, 126, 130,135, 136, 138, 150, 151, 152,154, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169,174, 177, 179, 180, 185, 186,189, 190, 191, 193, 194, 199

Esler, P.F. 195, 207Essene community 172ethic(s)/ethical teaching 91, 92, 93,

99, 126, 130, 133, 148, 155,167, 168, 179–81, 185, 191

eucharist 27, 101, 116, 119eucharistic words 11Evans, C.F. 63, 199, 201, 206Exodus (book of) 15Exum, J.C 207Ezekiel 73, 75

faith 94, 97, 99, 104, 113, 123,124, 128, 136, 175, 176, 177,180

feminist reading viii, 148, 156Fielding, Henry 29Fish, Stanley 24Fitzmeyer, J.A. 37, 97, 195, 201,

202, 206Flood 125form critic/form criticism 20, 22,

26Foucault, Michel 200, 201Franklin, Eric 15, 16, 196–8, 204

Gabriel 73, 76Galilee 17, 40, 56, 61, 62, 64, 73,

93, 144, 146, 148gender distinction(s)/gender

differential(s) 98, 158, 160, 161genealogy 80

Genesis 80, 107Gentile(s) 9, 29, 37, 43, 44, 50, 77,

79, 84, 93, 124, 135, 137, 147,152, 153, 167, 169, 175, 176,177, 178, 193, 197, 198

Gentile Christianity 37Gerasenes (territory of) 99Goodacre, M.S. 204Goulder, Michael 16, 23, 196, 204Griesbach hypothesis 12, 15

Haase, W. 207Habakkuk Commentary 64Hades 123Haggai 184Hananiah ben Dosa 171Hanson, John S. 207Hasmonaean dynasty 184Hebrews (book of) 146Hellenistic literature 7, 8Hengel, M. 206hero 2, 5, 121Herod (Antipas) 57, 60, 66, 73,

101, 117, 144, 171, 181Herod (the Great) 184High Priest 19, 57, 60, 66, 141,

142, 143Hillelites 122historiography 7, 8, 28, 30Holy Spirit 59, 74, 77, 79, 109,

113, 136, 163, 180, 190Horsley, Richard A. 170, 171, 174,

207Horton, Fred 32Hurd, J.C. 192hypocrisy 111

implied author 10, 29, 30, 31, 33,35, 71, 122

implied reader(s) 10, 24, 25, 36,37, 123

Infancy Narrative(s) 11, 16, 29, 32,33, 43, 59, 61, 62, 64, 67, 68,

GENERAL INDEX 231

71, 73, 77, 80, 115, 117, 152,158, 160, 162, 162, 200

interpretive communities 25intertextuality 152, 158irony 23, 38, 41, 57, 64, 65, 66,

67, 101, 102, 113, 128, 142,143, 159, 161, 201

Isaiah 49, 67, 75, 78, 83, 131Iser, W. 24, 206Israel 38, 40, 41, 43, 44, 45, 50,

52, 55, 58, 59, 61, 63, 73, 74,75, 76, 78, 80, 81, 83, 84, 90,94, 104, 106, 108, 111, 117,118, 132, 133, 135, 138, 139,140, 141, 147, 151, 152, 153,154, 158, 165, 168, 169, 174,175, 176, 177, 188, 189, 193,197, 198

Jacob 45, 62Jairus’ daughter 13, 100James 103, 105, 114, 162Jeremiah 50, 131, 140, 184Jeremias, J. 204, 206Jericho 18, 128Jerusalem 4, 9, 10, 17, 18, 19, 33,

40, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48,49, 52, 56, 61, 62, 63, 64, 67,68, 69, 77, 78, 82, 84, 86, 90,97, 104, 105, 108, 117, 118,126, 128, 129, 130, 131, 137,144, 145, 147, 148, 148, 152,153, 166, 171, 172, 184, 190,191, 197

Jervell Jacob 193, 194Jewett, Robert 165, 207Jewish Revolt 136Jews 16, 37, 39, 40, 53, 57, 58, 60,

66, 86, 88, 105, 108, 129, 133,139, 144, 145, 166, 175, 176,177, 193, 195, 197, 199

Johannine community 23, 24John (disciple) 103, 105, 114, 162,

167

John (Gospel of) 11, 24, 41, 61,107, 138

John the Baptist 4, 5, 11, 12, 15,16, 28, 33, 58, 59, 63, 68, 71,73, 74, 75, 76, 78, 79, 84, 87,88, 91, 93, 95, 96, 97, 101, 103,122, 132, 157, 171, 178, 195

Jonah l09, 111Jordan 18Joseph 77, 83Joseph of Arimathea 20, 60, 146Josephus 7, 30, 31Joshua 55, 82Judaea 37, 90, 144, 171Judah 140Judaism 16, 37, 46, 48, 64, 80,

122, 126, 140, 167, 169, 170,178, 188, 195, 198

Judas (Iscariot) 19, 34, 66, 139,142

Judas (son of James) 90judgment 17, 48, 49, 58, 79, 80,

91, 92, 105, 106, 107, 110, 112,114, 115, 120, 123, 125, 138,141, 151, 161, 189, 190,190

justice 111, 114, 153

king (title for Jesus) 31, 48, 57,129, 143, 144, 145, 171

kingdom 16, 17, 19, 26, 33, 35,40, 41, 45, 48, 49, 52, 53, 55,57, 59, 63, 64, 67, 71, 74, 75,82, 85, 86, 88, 90, 91, 92, 93,94, 95, 96, 98, 99, 100, 102,105, 106, 108, 109, 110, 111,113, 116, 117, 119, 120, 121,122, 123, 124, 126, 129, 133,134, 135, 138, 139, 141, 147,148, 150, 151, 153, 154, 155,156, 159, 161, 165, 167, 168,169, 170, 172, 173, 174, 175,176, 178, 179, 181, 182, 189,190, 191

Kings (book of) 30

232 GENERAL INDEX

Klausner, J. 206Knight, J.M. 202Koester, H. 202Krieger, Murray 23Kurz, William 30, 31, 37, 202,

205, 206

Last Supper 19, 26, 39, 66, 138,139, 141

Law (the) 16, 44, 86, 89, 103, 122,158, 178, 188, 197, 198, 199

Lazarus 122, 123, 181legend 22Levi 88levirate marriage 134, 160liberation 38, 43, 68, 74, 78, 86,

103, 135, 138, 151, 152, 153,154, 167, 191

literary approach 2literary criticism 20, 200literary devices 67–9Lives (Hellenistic) viii, 4, 5, 6Lohmeyer, E. 206Lord (title for Jesus) 31, 39, 41, 48,

58, 60, 75, 76, 86, 94, 118, 139,141, 150, 151, 160, 168, 174,188

Lord’s Prayer 18, 108, 126, 173,191

Lot 125

Maccabees (books of) 30Maddox, Robert 193, 194Magnificat 75, 91, 157, 171Maier, W.A. 204Malachi 15, 95, 170Mark 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 11, 12, 14, 15,

16, 31, 37, 54, 70, 71, 78, 79,80, 99, 138, 144, 195, 197, 198,199, 200, 201

Marshall, I. Howard 192, 201,202

Martha 108, 160Marxsen, Willi 22, 205

Mary (mother of Jesus) 60, 73, 74,75, 76, 77, 157, 195

Mary (sister of Martha) 108, 160Matthew 2, 4, 7, 8, 12, 14, 15, 16,

31, 37, 54, 60, 70, 71, 74, 79,80, 81,

90, 111, 122, 138, 180, 181, 196,197, 198, 199, 200

Meeks, Wayne l89, 208Messiah 4, 16, 17, 18, 34, 35, 38,

41, 42, 43, 45, 46, 48, 49, 52,54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 62,63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 73, 74,76, 77, 79, 80, 82, 85, 89, 99,101, 102, 104, 105, 117, 118,129, 130, 132, 134, 135, 136,139, 141, 143, 144, 145, 147,152, 154, 157, 158, 165, 166,168, 171, 181

messianic age 43messianic secret 35, 74, 87, 102,

104, 145miracle(s) 13, 17, 55, 67, 81, 85,

86, 87, 88, 93, 94, 99, 100, 101,109, 110, 116, 118, 119, 124,125, 128, 158, 174, 175, 180,182

mission 16, 18, 59, 62, 65, 67, 83,84, 85, 86, 92, 106, 107, 113,141, 176, 180, 193

Moessner, D.P. 199, 206Moore, Stephen viii, 23, 26, 33,

163, 200–9, 202, 205, 207Moses 34, 38, 55, 63, 103, 122,

123, 179Moule, C.F.D. 204Mount of Olives 11, 18, 19, 34,

54, 57, 67, 82, 142, 145Muratorian Canon 10myth 22

Nain 68, 94narrative(s) viii, 2, 3, 17, 20, 20,

22, 27, 29, 30, 39, 40, 41, 60,

GENERAL INDEX 233

64, 70, 74, 76, 88, 89, 94, 96,111, 123, 124, 138, 145, 156,159, 162, 163

narrative criticism 3, 20, 23, 24,25, 26, 201

narrative structure/narrativeframework 4, 5, 20

narrator 2, 17, 18, 24, 27, 28, 31,32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 38, 39, 42,43, 49, 61, 64, 65, 67, 70, 77,79, 86, 87, 90, 93, 94, 95, 99,101, 102, 104, 105, 110, 121,122, 128, 129, 146, 147, 159,162, 162, 163, 201

Nazarenes 110Nazareth 13, 17, 55, 73, 75, 76,

82, 86, 198, 199Nineham, D.E. 206Noah 125Nolland, J. 201, 202Norden, Eduard 32, 205Nunc Dimittis 16, 49, 77, 152

O’Toole, Robert 23oral tradition 4, 6, 20, 41, 99, 150

Palestine 10, 17, 37, 61, 62, 170,171, 172, 181, 182, 185

Palmer, Darryl W. 193parable(s) 18, 26, 41, 48, 50, 51,

83, 92, 97, 98, 108, 110, 112,113, 114, 115, 116, 119, 120,121, 122, 125, 126, 129, 130,131, 132, 133, 138, 159, 162,166, 175, 181, 182, 183, 190

paradigm(s) 22, 25, 85, 91parallelism 68, 69, 134passion 22, 34, 38, 54, 56, 58, 59,

60, 64, 75, 128, 143, 145Passover 19, 43, 139patriarchs 116patriarchy/patriarchalism 153,

162, 172, 173, 175, 181

Paul 9, 10, 16, 29, 31, 54, 61, 62,68, 81, 89, 94, 107, 135, 136,151, 152, 153, 161, 163, 165,176, 178, 180, 196, 197, 198,199

Pauline theology 141Pentateuch 109Pentecost 141, 186, 188Perrin, N. 205Peter 17, 35, 56, 57, 59, 65, 86,

99, 101, 103, 114, 126, 136,141, 142, 162, 195

Pharisee(s) 34, 37, 60, 79, 87, 88,89, 93, 96, 111, 112, 117, 119,120, 121, 124, 126, 130, 135,197, 198

Philip (the deacon) 105Pilate 12, 19, 34, 57, 58, 60, 66,

78, 115, 129, 143, 144, 145,181

plot 2, 3, 4, 16, 17, 20, 23, 24, 25,28,

31, 40, 41, 42, 43, 45, 64, 71, 78,84, 118, 129

Pompeii 182Pompey 184poor, the 75, 82, 84, 90, 91, 95,

113, 119, 126, 129, 153, 154,155, 170, 172, 174, 183, 195

Powell, Mark A. 24, 25, 202, 205preaching 35, 84, 91, 96, 106, 112,

123, 131, 153, 154, 155, 159,160, 163, 176, 178

preaching (John the Baptist) 11, 79Preface (Lucan) 8priest(s) (see also chief priest) 19,

87, 170primitive church 20, 26, 28, 93,

177prophecy 35, 45, 48, 55, 62, 63,

64, 68, 75, 82, 117, 128, 131,137, 170, 171, 176, 198

prophet(s) 6, 33, 34, 35, 46, 48,50, 53, 54, 55, 60, 62, 64, 68,

234 GENERAL INDEX

83, 84, 90, 94, 95, 97, 101, 103,105, 106, 108, 111, 112, 117,118, 122, 123, 128, 132, 137,142, 152, 158, 159, 168, 171,174, 178, 188

prophetess 158Psalms 99

Q 13, 14, 15, 23, 38, 112, 200Queen of the South 111Quirinius 76Qumran 44, 47, 64, 169, 172

rabbinic literature 169reader(s) 2, 3, 6, 17, 18, 20, 24,

26, 28, 29, 31, 32, 36, 37, 38,39, 67, 68, 69, 71, 74, 79, 84,88, 97, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105,108, 109, 110, 113, 114, 116,117, 119, 120, 121, 124, 126,128, 129, 136, 137, 143, 150,160, 162, 163, 166, 167, 179,180, 190

reader-response 24, 25, 28redaction-critical study 186redaction criticism 3, 22, 23, 196rejection 33, 34, 35, 39, 41, 68, 83,

84, 85, 88, 90, 93, 96, 97, 105,112,

117, 118, 119, 129, 131, 137, 145,168, 194, 198, 199

repetition 67, 124restoration 41, 43, 47, 49, 52, 73,

77, 97, 118, 129, 138, 152, 158,176, 193

resurrection 19, 20, 20, 41, 42, 55,58, 123, 134, 146, 147, 154,160, 161

resurrection (of Jesus) 4, 20, 40,54, 56, 64, 104, 110, 134, 188,193, 200

Revelation 165rhetorical criticism 24Robinson, J.A.T. 206

Rogerson, J.W. 207Roman(s) 17, 19, 40, 47, 52, 58,

102, 133, 139, 143, 144, 153,163, 165, 166, 181, 195

Rome 9, 10, 17, 61, 62, 69, 106,135, 163, 167, 178, 195, 197

sabbath 46, 88, 89, 116, 119, 146,177

sacrifice 44, 50, 115, 140Sadducees 19, 60, 79, 134, 160salvation 16, 50, 71, 73, 76, 79,

84, 92, 129, 153, 157, 162, 163,165, 167, 169, 175, 176, 177,178, 186, 189, 190, 194, 195,198

salvation history 185Samaritan(s) 105, 108, 124Samson 63, 73, 158Samuel 63, 73, 158Samuel (books of) 30Sanday, W. 204Sanders, E.P. 13, 14, 204, 206Sanders, Jack T. 194, 198, 206,

207Sanhedrin 66Satan (see devil) 18, 19, 34, 35, 58,

59, 66, 81, 82, 98, 107, 109,110, 135, 139, 141

Saviour 77, 163saying(s) (of Jesus) 4, 18, 22, 107,

109, 110, 111, 112, 115, 118,120, 121, 123, 125, 138, 182

Schottroff, L. 207Schrage, W. 207Schweitzer, Albert 56scribes 19, 42, 50, 56, 60, 89, 96,

120, 131, 133, 135, 139, 152Seim, T.K. 207Septuagint 32, 37sermon 22, 26Shammaites 122Sidon 90, 106Siloam 115

GENERAL INDEX 235

Simeon 16, 43, 77, 152, 153, 158Similitudes of Enoch 75Simon of Cyrene 60, 145Simon (the Pharisee) 97, 158, 159,

162Socrates 182Sodom 106Solomon 111, 184Son of David 31, 128, 129Son of God 39, 45, 55, 57, 65, 66,

81, 85, 99, 143Son of Man 19, 31, 35, 37, 40, 42,

43, 49, 52, 56, 57, 64, 66, 68,75, 87, 89, 90, 96, 101, 102,105, 106, 112, 113, 114, 124,125, 126, 128, 135, 136, 137,138, 143, 161, 167, 172, 179,188, 190

Staley, J.L. 206Stanton, Graham 5, 202Stanzel, F.K. 27, 205Stephen 53, 68, 85, 89, 103Street, B.H. 14Styler, G.M. 12, 13, 204suffering 35, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42,

46, 56, 57, 59, 62, 64, 65, 67,82, 102, 103, 104, 105, 111,125, 128, 141, 142, 147, 155

Synoptic Problem 11–16

Talbert, Charles H. 6, 194, 202,204

Teacher of Righteousness 63–4temple 3, 18, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45,

46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 60,77, 78, 81, 82, 89, 97, 118, 129,130, 131, 132, 133, 135, 139,142, 144, 145, 148, 148, 152,153, 155, 156, 166, 167, 170,174, 176, 184–3, 190

temptation 4, 34, 45, 58, 63, 81,82, 85, 104

Ten Commandments 108, 126theology of the cross 104

theophany 103Theophilus 8, 9, 30, 38, 40, 70Thessalonian correspondence 136Tiberius 78tithes 111, 170Transfiguration 17, 103, 104trial narrative 7, 65, 66, 130, 138,

144triumphal entry 17, 18, 48, 49,

118, 130, 139Tuckett, C.M. 204, 208Twelve (the) 14, 52, 90, 100, 101,

106, 117, 141, 159, 167, 174,193

two-source hypothesis 13Tyre 90, 106

Valentinus 54virgin birth 25, 54, 74

War Scroll 169Wentling, J.L. 204Wilson, Stephen G. 193Winter, B.W. 193Wisdom 97, 111Woes 90, 91, 92, 153, 154, 155,

171, 191worship 6, 32, 35, 48, 50, 86, 103,

109, 131, 150, 151, 163Writings, the 103

Yahweh 169

Zacchaeus 128, 129Zealots 171Zechariah 73, 75, 78, 157Zion 62, 153

236 GENERAL INDEX

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